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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27306022">Sanctuary</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbeshalftail3469/pseuds/hobbeshalftail3469'>hobbeshalftail3469</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boats, Cornwall, Donkeys!, Everyone loves Ted, Everyone takes care of Ted, F/M, Fluff, Joan was right, One year after end of TB, Penny Polworth is a potty mouth, Post Troubled Blood, Robin 'meeting' Joan, Robin throws caution to the wind, Robin will not be upstaged by a donkey!, Squeaky bed springs, Strike is determined to improve as a gift giver, Ted is just so cute, by which I mean Strike ripping apart a cooked crab!, crustacean porn!, drinking in The Victory Inn, friendship lines are blurring, shots!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:54:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>27,029</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27306022</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbeshalftail3469/pseuds/hobbeshalftail3469</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written immediately after I read Troubled Blood, which is BY FAR my favourite of all of the Strike stories thus far - it spoke to me so much of the underlying story (which we all know has very little to do with the cases and EVERYTHING to do with heart eyes, shared sofa stares, feeding each other toffees and generally loving each other from afar!)<br/>This is therefore one of my longer fics, NOT RELATED TO ANY CHALLENGES, it is completed and long and I'm going to try and update every few days.<br/>The basic story is that Strike is rather pleased with himself for upping his present buying skills, and for Robin's 31st birthday surprises her. He is heading off to spend some time in Cornwall, so there is a shared Land Rover journey, and then Robin makes a decision, inspired by a bolshy little amber coloured donkey, and you'll just have to see what happens then!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>150</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Not a last minute, flowers and chocolate kind of present</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have been loving the whole Fic/Striketober thing on the fandom and have resisted posting this all month - initially because I wanted to give people the opportunity to read Troubled Blood, and then because there has been so much great new stuff on the fandom.<br/>But with the prospect of a further lockdown in the UK, and just pretty hideous things happening across Europe and across the 'pond' I decided we all need the joy of donkeys to cheer us up!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Strike was feeling rather smug that his plan was working so well.<br/>
Robin was whizzing along in the Land Rover with him as a happy passenger, feeding her toffees and trying to not make the subtle grazes of his fingers against her lips linger longer than was feasibly believable.<br/>
Since their landmark birthdays the year before, and the solving of a fairly high profile cold case, and a couple of massive rows between them with Robin dishing out a few home truths, he’d tried especially hard with the whole gifts and thoughtfulness shit.<br/>
So much so that he was rather proud of the surprise he had managed to pull off for Robin’s 31st birthday.</p><p>He’d been researching for several months, had added a fake new client appointment into the work calendar and had arranged a hotel in Robin’s name in Sidmouth; as well as a train ticket for himself from Honiton, a nearby town which unlike the larger Sidmouth actually had a train station, and which would take him onto Truro where he was planning on spending a few days visiting his uncle Ted.</p><p>His holdall was nestled beside her small case in the back of the Land Rover as it spluttered and rattled along on the increasingly twisty roads.<br/>
So far on the journey they’d discussed all of the cases they were working on and given each other a detailed debrief of their respective progress, and the progress of Sam and Michelle on their specific jobs.<br/>
They’d even played their now regular game called, “How has Strike made Pat not hate him this week?” and Robin had correctly spotted the packet of chewy mints he’d left for her on Tuesday and the fact that he’d finally adjusted the leg on her desk so that it no longer required a folded beermat to stabilise it, but she claimed his third ‘thoughtful treat’ of spraying the squirty air freshener thing she'd bought in the bog after he’d had a dump didn’t count as specific to Pat and he’d agreed to make it up by aiming for an extra kind thing the following week.</p><p>They were closing in on Sidmouth after a pleasant stop off for a couple of meal deals from a well known high street chemist which they’d passed.<br/>
“Are we almost there?” Robin asked, Strike had taken charge of the navigation, which wasn’t unusual as it gave him something to occupy his thoughts on journeys and helped stave off any recurrence of his slight ‘being a passenger’ issues.<br/>
He gave a grunting nod beside her, he was being rather vague about the actual directions, and all he had written in the client name was Henry.</p><p>“What’s this actual client want us for by the way? And how come he can’t travel to us?” she asked, absently scratching her nose with the back of her knuckles.</p><p>“Erm….he was pretty evasive, but asked if we’d go and meet him and see what we could do….and it’s en route to St Mawes, so it means I get to claim most of the journey on expenses!” and he gave one of the more frequent smiles he flashed her these days….since her divorce had been completely signed and granted and since she’d managed to get herself set up in a flat of her own - a tiny one, but one that was hers alone.</p><p>Robin trusted Strike, and spending a full day in his company was a rarity given how busy the agency was these days, plus she had been nagging him to go and visit his Uncle Ted for ages, so she could hardly complain at this slightly unorthodox method of ensuring that he actually went.<br/>
A train from Honiton was far less expensive and also meant that he could get one of the local trains - which although it stopped everywhere meant he wouldn’t have to change again after Exeter.<br/>
Dave Polworth’s wife Penny was meeting him in Truro to drive him the rest of the way to St Mawes and he’d arranged for his train to arrive as she was due to leave work.</p><p>She was relatively satisfied with his answer and moments later another chewy toffee was delivered between her lips by his fingers, which smelled vaguely of tobacco and which brushed so softly against her lower lip everytime he gave her one of the sweeties she was embarrassed to admit to herself it was why she kept asking for another when he offered!</p><p>Strike was pleased that his plan of rendering her unable to speak by way of a caramel sweet in her mouth had worked, and hopefully by the time she’d eaten it they’d be close enough, or maybe even at their location.<br/>
He’d been noticing the brown signs for it for a while, and found himself suddenly feeling a bit foolish about what he had planned.</p><p>He thought it was a good present.<br/>
Not a last minute chocolate or flowers kind of present - he wouldn’t make that mistake again in a hurry - but it was also not the kind of present you could gift wrap…...and there was always the possibility that she hadn’t been truly serious about the balloon last year.</p><p>He nibbled distractedly on his thumb rather than light up a cigarette - he was trying to cut back and not smoking inside cars while they were moving was one of his self enforced rules.<br/>
He almost missed the turn he was keeping a look out for, but spotted the large entrance sign and instructed Robin to, “OK, turn in here.”</p><p>Robin glanced at the sign and then across at her work colleague who seemed to have a rather mysterious smile behind his eyes which was teasing itself out across his uneven lips.<br/>
“Happy birthday Ellacott,” he smirked, shuffling slightly on his seat and now grinning widely at his amber haired partners bemused expression.</p><p>“What? My birthday isn’t until next week!” she stated, following his finger as he indicated the parking.</p><p>“Well, I know, but this place closes down for the winter season on Friday, so I had to get creative,” he explained as he released his seatbelt and manouevred himself out of the passenger side.</p><p>Robin shook her head as she clambered out, ducking herself into her cross body bag and slamming the door closed.<br/>
“So…..we’re not meeting a client called Henry?” she asked, looking at Strike as he lit up a cigarette and drew the smoke deeply into his lungs.</p><p>“Not a client, no…..but we are meeting Henry.”<br/>
She wrinkled her nose, brain working overtime as she tried to fathom out what was going on.....but whatever it was Strike seemed quite pleased with himself, and it had already been one of the nicest days she'd passed in a while.<br/>
Days spent with her work colleague frequently were.<br/>
"OK," she grinned, "Lead on!"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. There are loads of them!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just a short chapter today to establish what Strike's gift actually is for Robin.</p><p>The Donkey Sanctuary is a real place that exists in the UK and has been going for years - has great principals and ethics etc.<br/>I know that it is possible to do the whole adopt a donkey thing from them, but have no idea whether the 'package' I have put together here is an option - it is based on one which i know IS available from an Alpaca and Llama farm I have visited.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies for my phonetic Aussie accent - the assistant is based on a lovely lady who showed us around an alpaca from in France - she spoke french with an Aussie accent and was ace!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Strike had brought her to The Donkey Sanctuary, a haven for old and retired donkeys which had been building up a reputation near Sidmouth since the late 1960s. <br/>It was now a thriving business which maintained its principles of caring for old and and retired working donkeys, meaning that they could end their days in a safe environment, making new friends and generally having a brilliant time.</p><p>Ever since their trip to Skegness, and the subsequent balloon he had bought for Robin as part of her 30th birthday surprise he had known about Robin’s affection for donkeys, he knew about Noddy, the black donkey she’d rushed to locate on the sandy beach on her holidays, and how she and her brother had fought to ride him first.<br/>And having wanted to make sure he NEVER had to resort to last minute flowers or chocolates as a gift for her EVER again, he’d been working on this gift for a while.</p><p>He was finishing his cigarette before walking across to the entrance and flashing a QR code on his phone which granted them entrance as well as a paper gift bag fastened with a raffia bow which he took as he ushered her ahead of him.</p><p>It was late in the season, and as Strike had said the place was definitely in the wind down process, not many other cars had been in the car park and there were only a smattering of other customers. Strike narrowed his gaze towards a grey coloured sign post and located the direction he wanted.</p><p>“This way, come on Ellacott,” he grinned and strode off along the walkway.</p><p>Robin giggled at his almost jaunty enthusiasm and cast her eyes around her, making small squeals of delight at the sight of pasture fields which were full of herd of donkeys.</p><p>“Oh my god! There are loads of them!” she laughed, feeling like a small girl again, scampering and ducking down to catch sight of more furry heads and doleful eyes.<br/>The aroma was of fresh straw, and grass, and animal feed, with that ever present ‘stable’ smell which out in the crisp air was rather pleasing.</p><p>Strike was heading towards a slender woman, dressed in the Sanctuary uniform and standing beside a small hut and a pen containing one of the donkeys.<br/>Just before he reached the setting he halted and turned to Robin, holding out the bag to her.</p><p>“This is for you, Ellacott. Happy Birthday, I hope you like it,” and he transferred the handles onto her outstretched hand before giving her a one armed hug and giving her a quick, but carefully choreographed kiss on her cheek.</p><p>Peering into the bag she saw a small, stuffed toy in the shape of a donkey along with a framed picture and several pieces of paperwork, one of which she withdrew.<br/>“Adoption Certificate?” she laughed, “Strike….what hell?”</p><p>The woman down at the small hut had spotted them and was walking up to meet them.<br/>“Are yuu here to muyt Hinree?” she asked in an accent which had more to do with Sydney than Sidmouth.</p><p>“We are!” Strike replied happily, glancing towards Robin and noting the expression of restrained excitement and delight….which was exactly what he’d hoped for in her response…..OK, actually what he’d HOPED for was that she would throw her arms around him, forget about donkeys and spend several minutes allowing him to investigate her tonsils…..<br/>…..but in the spirit of best mates this would suffice!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Is she talking about Henry or you?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cormoran specifically selected Henry from the choices available.....I wonder why?<br/>Please feel free to play the 'Match the character to the Donkey' game with Henry, Mavis and (my personal favourite) Stomper!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am keeping the rating at Teen for now - there is a bit of Strike-esque swearing in this chapter.<br/>I may have to up the rating as we progress because I can't remember what I have Polworth saying.,...but let's face it; it is likely to be rather ripe and sweary!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were an unlikely trio as they made their way across to the small hut - one slender, tall, tanned Aussie whose name badge said ‘Dani’; one pale skinned, honey- haired woman wearing cropped tailored trousers and brogues (she had thought they were meeting a client!) and a tall, slightly limping man in a massive overcoat.</p><p>Dani (or rather Dinee in her accent) explained about the adoption concept; that having selected their donkey they would receive photos and updates about them, and that today Robin would be able to take Henry on a walk around the sanctuary using a harness, and then would be able to groom him on a second visit.</p><p>Robin kept casting gleeful glances at Strike as the extent of her gift experience was described, and Strike felt almost ridiculously smug about pulling off his triumph.</p><p>“So...I’m gunna go and git Hinree and bring him round, OK?” and without awaiting a response she pootled off into the adjacent enclosure.</p><p>Robin’s grin stretched across her face and she was fighting the urge to perform a little gallop on the spot. Instead she turned on her heels and arched her eyebrows at Strike’s languid but slightly fidgetty form leaning against the fence.</p><p>“OK?” he asked, taking Robin’s bright eyed nod as vilification for the amount of effort he’d put into this whole event. </p><p>“But, Cormoran Strike, you lied to me!”<br/>
Her eyes looked playful however, and he wrinkled his nose and lips ruefully before he responded.</p><p>“I know!  I would say I’m sorry….but I’m not!” and he made that clicking sound with his cheek that signified his awareness that he knew that he was forgiven.</p><p>Smug bugger! Robin thought as she regarded him.<br/>
I mean how dare he stand there all crumpled and mischievous and buy her a donkey (alright, not an actual donkey, but a vested interest in one!)....and how dare he feed her toffees and brush her lips with his fingers…..and how dare he be single…..and how bloody dare he be so fucking perfect that it had actually started to physically hurt to not be around him for a day!</p><p>She brought herself back to the here and now.<br/>
“So did you actually pick out Henry, or do they allocate you one?” she asked, making a tight ‘000’ shape with her lips as Dani started moving the donkey from the pen, it’s hooves audible on the concrete floor of the pathway.</p><p>Strike nodded, “I did indeed pick him out. I took ages reading all about them and looking at pictures….I could probably name all of them in that field!”<br/>
Robin laughed, she didn’t doubt it….he was thorough in everything he did!</p><p>“And what made you decide on this little man?” she asked as Dani appeared with a shaggy, almost black coloured donkey on a red halter beside her.<br/>
He had the most doleful eyes and a smattering of greying fur around his ears, which were pricking away at each new noise, although he remained resolutely placid and calm.</p><p>Dani, who had not been party to the conversation launched immediately into her prepared speil, “So Hinree here is an old man, he’s quite sitt in his ways and doesn’t loik mornings, but he is completely loyal and is hippee to just walk soid by soid with a couple of his buddies - mainly Mavis - she’s the sort of sandy coloured one just over thire - and Stomper, he’s the fiesty little guy in that pen….we can’t trust him near the visitors ‘cos he tends to steal anything he can nibble at in their bags!”</p><p>As Dani spoke Robin glanced at Strike - each new piece of information about Henry seemed to verify why he had been the perfect choice of donkey for her!</p><p>Dani continued, “He’s got a bit of a wobbly lig, had an issue a few years ago with his hoof, but he’s foin as long as he takes it easy, and he just loves cuddles!”</p><p>At this announcement Robin laughed, “Up until that point I was beginning to wonder whether she was talking about Henry or you!” </p><p>Strike gave a roll of his eyes, “Oh very funny! Anyway, he was the closest in description to Noddy!” he explained, although he would never admit that the characteristics of the little donkey had definitely struck a chord with him when he’d trawled through the various donkey biogs (who knew they were a thing!?)</p><p>He had turned his head, scratching an imaginary itch on his neck in order to deflect his slight embarrassment at Robin picking up on more of his personality traits than was wise for his borderline non-existent equilibrium when it came to his work partner these days, but smiled and turned expectantly as he heard Robin’s voice.</p><p>“Oh come here, let me give you a hug, you gorgeous thing!”</p><p>He was both disappointed and amused when he realised the comment was firmly aimed at Henry rather than himself, and gave a slight groan, disguised as a snigger, at the sight of Henry resting his forehead against Robin's as she clasped her arms around him and nuzzled into the soft fur sprouting between his ears.<br/>
Robin’s delight in Henry was reciprocated in a manner which made Strike laugh even more - the donkey almost dutifully stood, accepting the fuss, whilst staring over towards Strike.<br/>
He was sure there was a look in his eyes that he recognised as being the one he gave when Lucy insisted on hugging him and checking on his well being.<br/>
He did however notice that the dark furred donkey’s nostrils were waffling and his lips puckered, inhaling Robin’s unfamiliar scent…...Strike found himself tutting and feeling a little jealous…..ever since he’d been the one to select her most recent choice of perfume Strike had come to look on it as his personal possession and he felt annoyance with anyone else breathing it in and ‘stealing’ it…..even a fucking donkey!</p><p>He gave the beast a clear eyeballing, as if to say, “watch it mate!” which resulted in the animal nuzzling further against Robin’s coat, chest and hair with it’s nose and mouth, causing Robin to giggle and mutter all manner of phrases along the lines of, “Oh you absolute sweetie, you’re just a snuggly boy aren’t you?”</p><p>“Are we breaking this up and going for a walk then?” Cormoran eventually asked, annoyed with himself for allowing a donkey to get under his skin, and for the fact that Robin was lavishing all her attention on the furry little bugger rather than on the hairy massive bugger who had arranged it all!<br/>
Mentally he decided to give himself a decent talking to later....but for now Robin was grinning at him.<br/>
He'd done good!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Can donkeys give heart eyes?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The trio have their little walk/limp around the sanctuary, then over lunch Mavis makes her feelings rather more clear to Henry than the amber haired female has ever done for her, one legged 'Henry'!<br/>Henry loves a certain snack!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Robin was more than happy.<br/>
Dani instructed them in the route and how to hold the halter. She gave them a brief list of simple common sense do's and don’ts, and escorted them to a wooden gate, with Robin delightedly holding Henry’s halter rope. Once on the other side the pathway was enclosed, so even if they lost control of Henry and he bolted, he couldn’t escape. So with a wave she left them to it and returned to presumably clear up the hut and pen.</p><p>Robin, Strike and Henry walked, limped and trotted along for several minutes.</p><p>“This is perfect you know,” Robin said eventually. “I mean, this….all of it!”</p><p>Strike looked across at her ridiculously happy face and felt a lurch deep inside - he was responsible for that expression, for making her that happy.<br/>
It was a good feeling.<br/>
“I’m glad you like it,” he stated, directing his gaze forwards at the thankfully hardened soil which created the path they were ambling along.</p><p>“So, all of this was just a ruse to get me here and meet Henry? No client? Are you actually going to visit Ted, or was that part of it too?” she asked, pausing to allow Henry to investigate a patch of dandelion stems which had long since had their pompom heads blown away.<br/>
Strike rested a little against the railing, the small herd of other animals who had started to take interest and follow alongside them now nudging into the delicious array of scents wafting from his browny red coat.</p><p>“No, I am actually going down to see Ted. The thing about you driving me to Honiton is true, I’m looking forward to seeing him without Lucy and the trio of doom!”<br/>
Both laughed.</p><p>“Jack doesn’t count in the trio, surely!” Robin stated, moving off as Henry seemed happy to have nibbled and then pee’d on the dandelions.</p><p>Strike gave a soft huff, “Nah, Jack’s OK…..it’s just a shame he comes as a group deal with Whiny and Arsehole!”<br/>
They continued their slow amble - none of them in a rush to reach the end, each enjoying the relative peace, freedom and easiness of the encounter.</p><p>However, after a further twenty minutes of slow sauntering, easy chat and fresh air Strike’s stomach had begun to protest the fact that it knew there was a triple decker chicken, bacon and mayo sandwich waiting for him in the Land Rover, along with a bag of crisps, bottle of water and a king size Twix.<br/>
At their next stop, in order for Henry to nibble on a few bits of hay which were sticking out of the rear of a feed bag he mentioned to Robin that, “Henry’s making me hungry now!” and Robin had to admit that she was beginning to want her lunch too, so they finished the route, ending up on the other side of the small hut and pen.</p><p>Dani was waiting for them, scrubbing down and buffing up harnesses and a few saddles as well as chopping up carrots and apples.<br/>
“You all done? Alright Hinree mayte...had a good walk round? Bet you’re ready for a snack now! The old guy loves his snacks, and these are a particular favourite, although strictly for treats only!” and she removed a couple of oaty biscuits from her pocket, slotting one between his eager lips and offering the other to Robin who was busy with her own raffia decorated bag of goodies.<br/>
Strike therefore took the remaining biscuit and fed it to the scruffy little donkey, giving it a surreptitious scratch behind it’s ears as he did so. </p><p>They thanked Dani and headed back to the Land Rover, via a set of outside, stainless steel sinks in order to wash their hands.</p><p>“D’you wanna eat in the car, or shall we go there?” Robin indicated some wooden picnic type benches just inside the centre, and after a glance at his watch to check their schedule they gathered their bag of food and settled one on each side of the table.<br/>
After a few silent, focused mouthfuls of food each - Strike having devoured one of his triple decker sandwiches completely whilst Robin worked her way more daintily through her single sandwich containing feta and roasted peppers - Robin spoke.<br/>
“Why is it, that we do this pretty much every day, and yet it feels totally like a treat today?” she asked, sucking her thumb to remove a stray trickle of sweet oil from the pepper.</p><p>Strike raised his brows and gave a half nod, mouth full of seeded crust, “I know!” he growled, “S’not even ‘cos we’re outside, we’ve had loads of lunches sat outside in London….must be Henry!”</p><p>Robin grinned, “He’s lovely! I really love the gift Cormoran, it’s…..well, it’s just very like you. Thank you.”</p><p>Strike stifled a blush to his cheeks by bursting open his packet of thick cut crisps and shrugging, “It was only 8 weeks of research online then 3 weeks making plans and setting stuff up on the office calendar….I mean….it was nothing!”</p><p>Robin paused, mid chew and looked at him, “How did you manage the work side? I mean, Pat didn’t suspect.”</p><p>Strike grinned and nodded, “Well, actually I lied earlier when we were playing how have I impressed Pat this week….my third was actually the fact that she knows about all this…..I had to get a bit of security in making sure you didn’t book in something else, so Pat was in on it. And I’m sure that’ll get me some brownie points given that she’ll love that fact that she’s the only one who knew!”</p><p>Robin stuck her slightly bitty tongue into her cheek, “You smoothie!”</p><p>“Speaking of smoothies….look at Henry,” Strike nodded towards the large paddock which Henry had just been admitted to.<br/>
The slightly smaller, honey coloured donkey had trotted over to him and Henry was whinnying and walking around her in circles, nodding and huffing out his breath in noisy gusts. “Go on my son!” Strike laughed.</p><p>Robin joined him and awwww’d at the sight.<br/>
Mavis seemed to be mightily interested in her pal’s return and was following him with her eyes and snout as he circled her.<br/>
She sniffed at his rear end as it passed, which caused Strike to snigger in a most infantile manner, earning him a witheringly stern glare from Robin - which had the effect of rendering him slightly aroused he was alarmed to notice!</p><p>Henry had assumed a static position close to Mavis, who had started nibbling at his ears, and nudging his flanks rather persistently.<br/>
Henry merely glanced at her, but remained as nonplussed as it was possible for a donkey to appear.</p><p>“Oh look at her! Can donkeys give heart eyes?” Robin purred, “She is giving him all the signs….and he’s just Mr Aloof!”</p><p>Mavis had moved closer to Henry, who was steadfastly flicking his ears and bowing his head, staring at her through his baleful, black eyes.<br/>
Mavis herself was persistent in her nuzzling nips at Henry’s ears, mane and tail. She nudged him rather forcefully in his neck before walking a few strides infront of him and glancing over her back at him, flicking her head a little in what both Strike and Robin thought of as a rather provocative manner.<br/>
Strike bit down hard on a large, thick cut, ridged crisp.</p><p>“Blimey! Mavis is a floozy!” he grinned, crisp crumbs falling onto the wooden table as he spoke and ate.</p><p>Robin stared at him, “Why? What makes her a floozy? If anything Henry’s the tease…..striding over, huffing and puffing around her and then being all standoffish now she pays him some attention!”</p><p>“Alright! Alright! I take it back….Mavis is expressing her feelings in a non threateningly sexual way and Henry’s got a stick up his arse...happy?!” Strike asked, shaking his head and stuffing more crisps into his mouth.<br/>
Robin continued glaring, but saw the mirth behind his gaze and found herself smiling.</p><p>“Anyway, you have tomorrow to get to know the pair of them better and fill me in when I get back from Cornwall,” he continued.</p><p>He’d presented Robin with a second gift certificate for the following day, which stated she would be grooming and spending ‘quality time’ with her chosen donkey.<br/>
It had caused a degree of inappropriate eye rolling from Robin and head shaking from Strike with his mock innocent expression at the smutty double meaning of quality time!</p><p>“I really do love this present you know,” she smiled, noticing with a pleasant feeling in her belly that Strike was blushing slightly as he acknowledged her thanks.</p><p>“Well, I’m trying,” he shrugged, “And don’t say very!” he pointed a finger towards her with mirth.</p><p>“What time do I have to get you to the station then? Have I got time to find the loo?”<br/>
Strike glanced at his watch and nodded, “Yeah, you do that I’ll meet you at the car, I’m having a fag while I can!”<br/>
With a final glance over at Henry - the little dark donkey was intently staring at Mavis but instantly twisted his head away when she lifted her head from the grass - Strike exhaled and muttered softly as Robin rounded the corner of the path towards the toilets, "I know the feeling mate!"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>OK, this wouldn't be a Hobbes fic if they didn't have to spend some time apart so that I can write them a nice getting back together thing!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. I don't deserve to have a friend like you.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Change of rating - turns out Penny Polworth's potty mouth comes before her husband's, but they are an equal opportunities marriage!<br/>Strike makes his way 'home', and Robin sends him a carefully worded text message.<br/>We discover how Strike truly feels about Robin - he's admitted it to himself, so he's half way there!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>An hour later Robin had dropped Strike at Honiton station and watched as he’d lurched along the platform to await the train for Exeter where he’d change for Truro.</p><p>She tapped details into her phone and set it on the dashboard to locate the budget overnight accommodation they had arranged - amazingly enough the 2 rooms on the booking had apparently automatically switched to a lone room booking, and she grinned as she muttered, “Bloody genius….thinks of everything!” before she pulled onto the road and drove the short, 17 minute journey.</p><p>After checking in she glanced at the time; Strike would be on the train.</p><p>She tapped out a text, knowing that, like her, he preferred to not have conversations on trains unless it was essential.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>‘I can’t tell you how happy your present has made me. Thank you so much for all the trouble you went to. I don’t deserve to have a friend like you, but I’m so glad I do. Hope the journey goes OK. Let me know you’ve arrived safe. R x </strong>
  </em>
</p><p>She’d been adding the ‘x’ onto messages that were non work related for a while now.</p><p>Initially it had been accidental, but having not received a rebuke from her burly pal she’d continued, and she had noticed a few months ago that they had started to appear on similar texts from Strike.</p><p>When they were not working over the weekends, which wasn’t often these days as the agency had become increasingly popular and busy, they often engaged in a text exchange as they watched some mutually selected programme on TV. Sometimes, usually initiated by Strike, the texts turned into an actual phone conversation, with the silences as they watched whether the contestant would indeed be able to name all 10 items on the list part of the enjoyment, or the joint conviviality as they tried to find all sets of groups from a wall of random words and phrases showing their close bond and familiarity with each other.</p><p>Robin liked it when they chatted; she liked hearing him inhaling and exhaling on his cigarette down the phone; she liked curling her legs up onto her small sofa with his voice, soft and comforting in her ear. But, the negative part of those chats was that she didn’t receive a ‘x’ on the final text message from Strike.</p><p>Hopefully he’d respond to her text with an actual message….and maybe there would be a ‘x’ on the end.</p><p>On the relatively empty train to Exeter Strike had slumped back into his pre booked seat, stretched out his legs and closed his eyes, reliving the various moments of joy he had shared with Robin earlier in the day.</p><p>He’d known she would love Henry…..he’d known he had chosen the right gift.</p><p>Having never given much thought to presents in the past he was now inordinately pleased at the reaction which giving the right one could create, and the resultant feeling of pleasure in the giver was a wholly new sensation. Christ, he’d even made an effort with all three of his nephews!</p><p>Adam had even given him a hug after receiving his last Birthday present….Luke hadn’t; but Luke was still an arsehole!</p><p>He couldn’t help but smile at hearing her profuse outpouring of adoration over the slightly scruffy little animal.</p><p>He shouldn’t feel jealous of a donkey…..but the knowledge that tomorrow Robin would be running her hands across his furry little body, grooming and nuzzling him within an inch of his life was rather distracting.</p><p>He allowed himself to relax and predictably the combination of the fresh air and exercise and the rocking motion of the warm train meant that he slept until the train pulled into Exeter, and he repeated the process after making his connection onto Truro.</p><p>Penny Polworth worked pretty close to the station, and he sent her a quick text, noting with a smile that there was one waiting for him from Robin.</p><p>Mrs P replied and told him to stay put outside the station as she had managed to finish up for the day and just needed to close up a few bits and bobs. He therefore plonked down on a bench just outside the main station building and lit up a cigarette, his kitbag between his feet, and some late autumnal sunshine on his face.</p><p>There was something about the air down in Cornwall that filtered into his lungs in a different way - and he smirked at the thought that his nicotine fix was outweighing all the positive benefits of clean country air - but he felt a deep relaxation within his bones at the thought that he was in the place that was almost ‘home’, despite the fact that London was very definitely the place where he knew he would end his days.</p><p>He pulled out his phone and squinted into the sun to locate the message from Robin. His eyes automatically flipped to the end, and he felt ridiculously happy to see the little ‘x’ at the end of the message. He then focused on what she’d written.</p><p>The knowledge that his gift had hit the mark, and that she was sort of proud of him for arranging it gave him a warm glow inside his belly - the same feeling that he got from a decent serving of sticky toffee pudding with custard - and he sighed at her choice of phrase.</p><p>He was pleased, no,….more than pleased, that she considered him as a friend.</p><p>They were best mates, but glorious though that knowledge was it was making it increasingly difficult to consider how he could make her aware that, for him at least, she was so much more.</p><p>The realisation had hit him like a sledgehammer in his gut when they were round at Nick and Ilsa’s for a take away and games night.</p><p>They’d had loads of them; Cards Against Humanity had been purchased, and the quartet had taken delight in making Robin blush, and in always guessing which card Strike had laid down - his ability to never consider ANYTHING as too far being his giveaway!</p><p>One evening Robin had been late arriving; they’d ordered Chinese and when she had arrived, looking gorgeous and slightly flushed she’d stolen one of his prawn crackers, waggled both her hips and eyebrows in his vague direction as he handed her the wine he’d poured out for her, and at that moment he’d realised that he was completely, hopelessly in love with her.</p><p>He was considering a reply to her message, but thought it better to wait until he was actually in St Mawes with Ted - she’d said to let her know when he had arrived safely and technically he was still en route.</p><p>He’d finished his cigarette when a deep red coloured Range Rover pulled up, the passenger window rolled down to reveal Penny Polworth in the driver’s seat.</p><p>The car behind bipped it’s horn at her abruptness and choice of stopping place and she turned around, giving the male driver a hand gesture and suggesting that he, ‘Go round you fucking twat!’ before smiling across at Strike. “Alright Diddy? Jump in,” and Strike hauled himself up, tossing his bag into the boot of the vehicle before clambering and dragging himself up into the passenger seat.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>How much fun would it be to play Cards Against Humanity with this gang of 4?!<br/>In case you are unaware of the game the basic premise is to select the most truly offensive or rude option to a given question or statement.....it is marvellous fun as long as everyone is on board!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. It will always be Ted and Joan's house</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A little chapter with Cormoran getting to his Uncle's house.<br/>The chapter title, and Cormoran's refusal to call it Ted's house alone is based on my own experience - my dad died over 10 years ago but I still go to visit my mum at 'mum and dad'd house'<br/>I love imagining how Ted is getting on post-Joan and given the whole 'posse' style rescue for getting Strike and Lucy there in the flood, I reckon they'd all pull together for Ted.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Penny was manoeuvring the car out onto the road as Strike put on his seatbelt leaving him no opportunity for a more intimate greeting.<br/>
Strike found himself, as usual, clutching at the seat as he was driven along by Penny.<br/>
She was one of those drivers who seemed to try and attach themselves to the back bumper of the car directly in front, meaning that every time she applied the brakes it was a sharp, almost emergency stop to prevent rear ending the lead vehicle, accompanied by a flurry of blasphemy - mainly about the parentage of the driver in the lead vehicle!<br/>
He used his standard excuse when she noticed; that his leg threw him off balance and that holding on helped rectify it so that his back wasn’t knackered.<br/>
Penny didn’t seem to be bothered.<br/>
She prattled on under the belief that she was ‘filling him in’ on everything that had happened in St Mawes since he’d last visited. </p><p>Strike allowed her to talk; it was rather like white noise and if he just gave the occasional nod and grunt he was free to spend the time more pleasurably engaged in reliving Robin’s reactions to Henry.</p><p>By the time the car pulled up outside the small home that Strike still called Ted and Joan’s house - somehow it just seemed disloyal and wrong to refer to it as only Ted’s home - it was dark outside.<br/>
Strike thanked Penny who promised that Dave would be in touch about a drink down at The Victory, she also handed over a picnic type bag to Ted and took back a pile of clean plastic boxes and glass casserole dishes, giving him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek before driving off.</p><p>“Now than Corm’ran. You made it my lad,” and Ted gave the enormous man a hug which instantly turned him into a 9 year old boy as he smiled and inhaled the familiar scent of Old Spice and Fisherman’s Friends.</p><p>Ted released him, gave him a crinkle eyed grin and ushered them both inside, talking all the while about him “having to get these meals in the freezer” and “don’t let the heat out the door” as Cormoran closed it behind them.</p><p>“I’ll dump this and let me go the loo,” he stated, moving directly up the narrow stairs as Ted vanished into the kitchen.</p><p>“Right-ho, I’ll put the kettle on then,” he shouted back.</p><p>Strike still found it strange that the house had an unmistakable aroma of Joan to it - he’d assumed it was her perfume when he was younger, but as it remained lingering in the air perhaps it had always been a mixture of furniture polish and washing powder.</p><p>He dumped his bag on the metal framed double bed in the larger of the guest bedrooms and made use of the toilet before washing his hands and easing himself down the stairs, smirking at the creaky second to bottom stair.<br/>
By the time he joined him Ted had made a pot of tea and had stacked whatever was inside the insulated folding basket into the fridge and freezer.</p><p>“What was Penny giving you?” Strike asked as he poured out tea for them both and added the merest splash of milk to each - Strike had learned his love of creosote coloured tea from his uncle.<br/>
Ted gave an automatic thank you for the mug before he sat down opposite his nephew at the large kitchen table.</p><p>“Just a few meals and such like, she’s a good ‘un is that Penny, ‘fact all the locals are….they all chip in and much as I thought it was a cheek at first; you know, implyin’ that I couldn’t look after myself, it’s more for them really. They all do somethin’ and really it’s for Joannie, ‘cos she did so much for all of them over the years….an’ to be honest, it frees up my time and I gets some lovely dinners!”</p><p>Strike grinned and felt a pang of something resembling emotion in his chest at the knowledge that his late aunt and uncle were so well respected and loved by the small town.</p><p>“Well, what have we got for this evening then? I’m not up for a late night, I’m knackered,” he stated, gratefully swallowing half of his mug of tea.</p><p>Ted glanced at his watch, “Well, I didn’t reckon you’d be up for a night out down the pub, so I asked John to pick up fish and chips on his way past walking Dougie. Should be within the next half hour….depends on how quickly Dougie can find an obliging tree!”<br/>
The pair of men laughed together, causing Strike to give a massive, jaw aching yawn.</p><p>“Sorry Ted, too much fresh air and exercise with Robin and Henry earlier on,” he explained.</p><p>Ted gave his nephew a puzzled but twinkle eyed stare, “Is that her new chap then? Didn’t know she was out seeing other people.”</p><p>Strike noted the phrase used, ‘other people’ implied that Ted still only considered Robin as being with him...he’d made no secret of his, and his late wife’s considered opinion that despite never having met the woman, that Robin was the one who Cormoran had always been intended to meet.</p><p>Strike rasped his palm across the stubble beginning to show through on his chin before he answered, “No, Robin is not seeing other people, and Henry isn’t her new chap…..although she was particularly taken with him!” he grinned with a wistful look in his eye, draining his tea and pouring a second mug full from the slightly stewed pot, “I bought her a donkey for her birthday,” and when Ted’s face displayed dismay quickly clarified, “She likes donkeys….I got her one of those sponsor things and it’s sort of on the way here, so we spent a couple of hours there.”</p><p>Ted nodded sagely, inwardly he was having a silent conversation with Joan, “You see, girl, he’s making an effort…..spending time with her….making her happy….making her think twice about him!”</p><p>“Sounds lovely, I got a card for her on the fireplace, you’ll take it back and give it to her won’t you?” he said.</p><p>“I will Ted, but right now, I’m nipping out back for a fag.”</p><p>After lighting his cigarette Strike took out his phone and tapped out a message to Robin.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Cheeky!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Robin and Strike are apart.....but their best mates thing is so fine tuned now that even apart they are 'together' and a bit in synch!<br/>Ted has a ridiculously sweet go at texting (indulge me!)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The reference to the odd, seemingly random comments on a shared discussion thread is very reminiscent of some with Lula and on the Discord as we group watch LW!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In her fairly standard budget room Robin had unpacked her small overnight case, had a shower and dried her hair and was considering the options for eating.<br/>
The hotel boasted a pretty basic restaurant, the menu for which was on her glass covered desk. None of the choices leapt out at her, but she was hungry and the prospect of having to go elsewhere and therefore dress more respectably wasn’t appealing.<br/>
She smiled as she felt her phone buzz and saw Strike come up as the sender of her incoming message.</p><p>‘Made it in one piece. Give Henry my love tomorrow. Glad you like your present. Strike x’</p><p>On a whim she tapped out a cheeky response,<br/>
‘In one piece? Bloody hell, Cornish air really must have magic powers if it’s made your leg grow back! Sleep tight. R x’</p><p>With more enthusiasm she went down to the hotel restaurant and had what turned out to be a rather good plate of roasted vegetable fajitas accompanied by a bottle of lager.<br/>
A reply from Strike came back - the sunglasses emoji face and the word ‘Cheeky!”</p><p>Having eaten swiftly - eating alone in a communal dining space was never particularly enjoyable - she returned to her bedroom and flicked through the available TV channels.<br/>
A further episode of a crime drama was airing - if she watched it without Strike she’d either have to pretend she hadn’t, or fess up and risk him being annoyed…..it was a show that they had enjoyed texting through and sharing theories.<br/>
It made her laugh to scroll back through her messages; the conversation which had random comments of, ‘the postcard on the mantlepiece!’ and ‘shouldn’t have worn those shoes for trailing a suspect’ and just the odd ‘Ooooh!’ and one that said ‘Cover your eyes Ellacott!!!’ made her giggle as she recalled the added enjoyment of the show and the fact that the final one had coincided with a rather nice naked back view of the male lead’s buttocks!</p><p>She was about to switch over when her phone buzzed again.</p><p>‘You got BBC on?’</p><p>Robin grinned and messaged back,<br/>
‘I was going to switch over. Are you watching?’</p><p>‘Yep. Ted’s hooked on it too and he agrees with your theory about that social worker!’</p><p>So followed a pleasant hour with messages pinging back and forth between them as the story unfolded more but ultimately nothing was resolved…..although Robin and Ted’s idea about the dodgy social worker with a past was looking more likely - although Strike still maintained it was too obvious a plot device. </p><p>Ted had Robin’s contact details and joined in sending her a message which read,:<br/>
HE’S JUST ANNOYED HE DIDNT SPOT IT! ..........With a smiley face emoji tapped out using the :) format.</p><p>Both Robin and Strike slept well despite the unfamiliar settings.<br/>
The one thing about budget hotels was that the beds were invariably pretty decent, and from Strike’s point of view there was something comforting in the squeaky sprung frame of the bed in the back bedroom.</p><p>A pleasing belch with the lingering flavour of vinegar from his fish and chips earlier brought back delicious memories of Skegness and he fell to sleep with thoughts of Robin’s hair swirling in the bracing seaside air haunting his dreams.</p><p>Robin dreamt of nuzzling against soft, dark hair; trailing her nose against the unfeasibly soft skin of warm ears…...and inhaling the aroma of lavender and tobacco!<br/>
It wasn’t her fault that thoughts of Henry were inextricably linked with her hirsuite work colleague…..and best mate!<br/>
It also wasn't her fault that her dreams involving her work colleague had become so frequent that she no longer woke in a cold sweat......although to be fair she did usually still wake up damp!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. I will NOT be upstaged by a donkey!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Robin returns to the sanctuary on her own to spend some time with Henry....Mavis is seriously unimpressed!<br/>.....Cormoran spends time with Ted...and with Joan in a beautiful way (there is a theme going on with the Joan thing!)<br/>Oh, and everyone that wanted her to go to Cornwall......hold onto your hats!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Robin’s room deal included breakfast, and despite a bit of a lie in she enjoyed a croissant, toast, cereal and yoghurt from the choices on offer. The sight and smell of the smoked bacon made her grin as she thought of Strike’s delight in pig based breakfast foods.</p><p>She’d really enjoyed the walk with Henry around the donkey sanctuary, but was eager to give Henry her full attention today rather than try to sneak surreptitious glances at Cormoran!<br/>
It was looking like a decent day weather wise and it had been ages since she’d got stuck in mucking out and grooming an animal. Angus had probably been the last!<br/>
She knew that she’d have to drive back to London alone afterwards, which had always been the plan, but the thought of working in the office with no possibility of seeing Strike for a few days was not particularly good, especially after the day they had shared yesterday.<br/>
Nevertheless she packed up her belongings and gave the room her usual second sweep to make sure she hadn’t left anything before setting off in the Land Rover back towards the sanctuary.</p><p>She noticed as she drove that the signposts showed place names she’d heard Cormoran speak of and it made her smile, in the same way that the place names as she neared Masham brought back happy memories of journey over the years.</p><p>____</p><p>Strike rolled over in his semi familiar bed, he groaned as the bed springs creaked and inhaled the delicious aroma of grilled bacon.<br/>
He’d taken a shower before going to sleep so just gave himself a ‘cat wash’ as Joan would have called it before lurching down to smile at the sight of Ted swaying to the sound of some local radio channel playing songs from the 70s, spatula in hand as he flicked hot fat across a pan of frying eggs.</p><p>“Alright lad? There’s tea in the pot; bacon’s all done; toast and eggs almost there, help yourself,” he smiled but nodded as he saw Cormoran wave his cigarette packet.</p><p>“Sounds and smells amazing, just let me wake my taste buds up first!” and he groaned as the bright autumnal sunshine hit him at the open back door.</p><p>Suitably replete after a couple of rounds of bacon and fried egg butties and about a litre of tea Ted announced his intention to take advantage of the calm weather and go and check on his crab pots.<br/>
The thought of spending a few hours lazily drifting around at sea followed by a bit of physical activity, hauling up ropes was like a balm to his spirits, so the pair of them dressed appropriately - thick, Joan knitted ‘communal’ sweaters over t shirts, vests and shirts - and made their way leisurly down to the harbourside where Ted’s small boat was fastened up. </p><p>They passed the time until their bellies once more began to grumble in silent contemplation and easy conversation; Ted took most of the role with the sail, Cormoran mainly stayed out of the way but fastened off rope with almost muscle memory.</p><p>Cormoran had noticed that Ted was spending more time on his little boat - Lucy kept him updated and Ted himself was getting quite proficient at video calls and text messages. Strike often wondered if it was for the same, new reason that he himself enjoyed being on the sea - namely that it meant he was surrounded by Joan. And he hadn’t missed the fact that Ted had sat with one hand on the side of the little yacht after raising the sail, and with his other lazily trailing through the cold, foamy water.</p><p>____</p><p>Robin thoroughly enjoyed her late morning time spent at the donkey sanctuary.<br/>
She was able to fuss over Henry and give him some undivided attention; she had found herself chatting away to him as he patiently stood being brushed.<br/>
She’d admonished him for the huge tufts of black and grey fur which she dislodged from his shaggy mane, and also for the fact that, no matter how she tried to smooth it, several sections just sprang back into an unruly tangle.<br/>
“You remind me so much of that guy that was here yesterday!” she found herself saying into the doleful, almost black eyes of the little donkey.<br/>
“His hair is a shaggy mess too; although obviously I’ve never brushed it for him…..not that I wouldn’t of course…..because I would. I mean, if he was in plaster and couldn’t do it himself…….although if he couldn’t do that there’d be loads of stuff he couldn’t do…..and I’m not sure he’d be happy about me fiddling about with anything else…..but he chose you specifically you know! You’re a very important donkey indeed!”</p><p>Henry appeared to listen placidly to the fairly constant soft voice of the lady who smelled nice.<br/>
He ruffled his nostrils and huffed out clouds of hot breath and gave his back leg an uncontrolable twitch when she stroked over a part just under his belly.</p><p>Mavis watched on from the main enclosure, apparently calmly but any scientist skilled in donkey body language would have noted her giving the other amber haired creature the donkey equivalent of a death stare!<br/>
Henry however seemed to be revelling in the attention, and almost purposefully glanced over his flanks at Mavis before nuzzling further against the pretty smelling lady’s jacket.</p><p> </p><p>Around about lunchtime Robin knew that she needed to consider leaving and making her way back to London.<br/>
Pat had been in touch and rather smuggly asked whether she’d enjoyed herself with her surprise. She’d also passed on the information that the appointment Robin had in for the following day had cancelled due to work commitments and they’d rescheduled for the following week, which meant that Robin was now in no desperate rush to get back.</p><p>Having said a very soppy goodbye to Henry; and to Mavis, who had wandered across and almost predatorialy nudged Robin’s hand away from ‘her man’, Robin had stopped to top up the Land Rover with fuel, and also to buy herself a bag of Jelly Babies to snack on as she drove.<br/>
The thought that she would have much preferred Cormoran to slot them inside her mouth; and then to curse her for getting the weird, white dust over his fingers (and then his coat when he wiped them there,) made her slightly melancholy.</p><p>She approached a roundabout junction in the road and angled the vehicle into the right hand lane to vere off towards the east and back to London.<br/>
As she made her way around however she was suddenly struck by the almost crazy thought that she was almost halfway there - and by there she meant metaphorically as well as physically - to Strike.</p><p>Whilst carrying out the almost rhythmical action of dragging the bristled brush across Henry’s fur she’d found herself slipping into an almost meditative state.<br/>
She’d thought about him; about Strike; because it was him who had gone to the not inconsiderable trouble of arranging this amazing gift for her.<br/>
And then of course she’d started wondering why he’d gone out of his way to make her this happy….and how she’d never actually seen where he grew up. </p><p>Therefore, as she held the heavy steering wheel of the massive vehicle to keep it turning right around the roundabout she found herself flicking off her indicator and continuing around.<br/>
The turn off to head west was just there, and yet she muttered a vague swearword and continued around, ignoring it.</p><p>Stupid, stupid idea, she found herself mumbling and aimed the car again to her intended turning towards London, after a lap of the circular island which would probably been awash with colourful bedding plants at any other time of year.<br/>
And then, as she received a few odd looks from behind the driving seats of cars waiting to join the traffic on the roundabout and who had seen the distinctive car pass already, Mavis popped into her head.</p><p>Mavis had made no bones about staking her claim on Henry. </p><p>She was a little sandy coloured donkey and she’d shown more gumption in 30 seconds than Robin had shown in the past couple of years of seriously being hung up on her work colleague.</p><p>Mavis wouldn’t turn right and head to London would she?</p><p>“Oh fuck a doodle doo!” she shouted, as much out of sheer hysteria and adrenaline as she steered the Land Rover around and into the lane which would take her onto the road heading west.<br/>
She ignored and squealed at the beeping horns of a Mondeo driver and a rather bemused looking old man in an ancient Rover.</p><p>On a whim she flipped open the sliding window panel and shouted out to the world, “Sorry! But I will not be upstaged by a donkey! I'm bloody doing this!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. *POLWORTH ALERT FOR LANGUAGE* That's what they don't write about in poems or love songs.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*FAIR WARNING, DAVE POLWORTH IS IN THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS AND HIS LANGUAGE AND ATTITUDES TOWARDS WOMEN?EVERYTHING IS CANON!*</p><p>However, Ted and Strike have a lovely sort of heart to heart before that....and they catch an impressive haul of crustaceans (see tags for where those lead!)<br/>And then Polworth and Strike meet up in the pub</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Back in St Mawes Cormoran and Ted tied up the boat and took their catch of 3 pretty decently sized crabs and one smallish, but acceptable lobster back up to the cottage.<br/>
Ted was asking about the agency - he knew it was doing well and was doing that typical English male thing of avoiding saying that he was proud of his nephew by giving him the opportunity to share his news.</p><p>Strike had started off talking vaguely about caseloads and how he’d managed to tie up a couple of open cases the previous week, which had freed him up to visit and hadn’t realised that he’d spent the past 15 minutes of the ambling walk talking almost continually about Robin; how she had found the missing pieces of a puzzle involving a bigamist; how she’d managed to step back and spot something in a surveillance image that he and Barclay had both missed; how she’d almost bullied him into taking an extra few days off tagged onto this trip; how she’d be furious about missing out on fresh cooked crab….</p><p>Ted however hadn’t failed to notice his nephew’s train of thought and topic of conversation.<br/>
He’d also noticed the slightly dreamy and far away look in his eyes.</p><p>When he paused Ted chipped in, “I don’t know why she hasn’t made it down 'ere yet! I’ve made no bones about wanting to meet her….sounds like one of the few people who you actually don’t mind spending time with; which means I’d probably not dislike her either!”</p><p>Cormoran gave a rueful wrinkle of his lips and a shrug, shifting the bucket of tethered crabs and lobsters into his other hand.<br/>
“We work together Ted! Coming down here, well that would mark a change in things…..and much as I have thought about that before you say anything, I’m not sure she sees us in that way. We’re best mates! That’s something I’ve never had with a woman before,” and he squinted into the sun as it peeked from behind a greyish cloud.</p><p>Ted unlatched the gate and closed it behind them both.<br/>
“But that’s the most important bit! If you like ‘er enough to be best friends with ‘er everythin’ else is easy…..all that bedroom shenanigans stuff, that don’t take up a whole lot of time in the big scheme o’ things,” he said, grinning at Cormoran’s exaggerated huff of embarrassment at where Ted’s topic of conversation seemed to be heading.</p><p>“Th’most important part is whether you like ‘er enough to just sit with ‘er, enjoyin’ the quiet moments. That’s what the main part is…...that’s what they don’t write about in poems or love songs, but that’s what I miss. Still, s’nice havin’ you ‘ere lad.”</p><p>Once inside the house Ted expressed a wish to indulge in a nap claiming that, “One of the benefits of being knackered and old is you can sleep whenever you like and nobody dares tell you off!”<br/>
Strike had already arranged to meet up with Dave Polworth at the pub so had a quick shower to remove the mixture of sweat, salty water and general fishiness of the boat before dressing in a pair of jeans with a grey t shirt beneath a checked flannel shirt and his navy blue half zip sweater.<br/>
He didn’t bother adding his trademark overcoat as he knew he’d roast on the walk there and back if her did, so he gathered his cigarettes, matches, phone and wallet and wound a long woollen scarf around his neck in such a way that he could dip his nose down into it and strolled along to the Victory Inn, hands in his pockets and the words of Ted at the forefront of his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Dave Polworth’s diminutive but menacing physique was hunched over a partially finished pint at one of the external tables of the distinctive, tucked away pub.</p><p>“Diddy! Y’alright mate?” he stood and gave his old friend a back slapping, ‘my masculinity is not in question’ hug and without waiting for a response plunged into the building to “get you a pint.”<br/>
Strike made himself as comfortable as possible on the wooden bench seat.<br/>
One of the other tables was occupied by a couple of younger women who he noticed glanced across at him as he rasped a hand across his stubble and pulled a cigarette from his pack.<br/>
Polworth returned bearing 2 fresh pints and set one down infront of his friend.</p><p>“Get that down ya….get a bit of Cornwall back in ya!” and he clinked his glass to Strike’s before downing a hefty slug.<br/>
Strike glugged down a large draught and thought better about mentioning that he regularly downed the local brew in London where it was readily available.</p><p>“So come on then….what’s going on with you? You getting any? Penny said you’d been doing something with that assistant o’ yours!”</p><p>Dave Polworth’s tender and sensitive conversational ability was water off a duck’s back to Strike after so many years.</p><p>“She’s my partner, not my assistant. And yeah, it’s her birthday next week. I was giving her a birthday present,” Cormoran stated, and winced instantly as he knew the meaning Polworth would apply.</p><p>With a grin and a ridiculously infantile snigger he quipped, “You jammy bastard, so you ‘ave been nailing her then? What did ’ya do? Tie a bow round it? Shove it through the letter box and ask her if she wanted a bit of first class male? ”</p><p>Strike shook his head, “There’s nothing going on! And I haven’t had any in fuckin’ months!”</p><p>Polworth formed his mouth into a tight ‘Oooo’ shape.<br/>
“Thought your right arm was looking a bit pumped up mate!” he shamelessly stated.</p><p>“Fuck off Polworth! We’re mates, and it’s…..well it’s nice,” and Strike covered the wry smile tugging at his lips at the thought of Robin by smoking.</p><p>“Nice is it? Oh well then, that makes up for nights of lonely wanking and dying alone!” Dave shook his head as he took a long draught of his second pint.</p><p>Strike ignored his friend and finished his cigarette.<br/>
The two women at the neighbouring table were still furtively glancing across at them both and Strike assumed it was connected to vaguely recognising him from a recent case which he knew had been featured in the local news thanks to his links to Ted and Joan.<br/>
Polworth however spotted the women and instantly recognised their interest.</p><p>“Choice of two there mate…..too close to home for me to take advantage. Tits are a bit small, but they’re not munters!” he hissed.</p><p>“Dave, remind me again why we’re friends?” Strike admonished, “They look like perfectly nice women, but I’m not interested and I have not been encouraging them, so pack it in!”</p><p>Silence reigned between them; it was pleasant to sit with the sun on their faces.<br/>
Dave’s skin naturally had the slightly weather beaten tinge to it from his Ironman training and races, and the soft lilt of Cornish accents around him made Strike relax almost unconsciously.<br/>
He was sitting at his local with his oldest friend.....it was almost perfect.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There is more Polworth tomorrow - I had to add in the line from Strike in today's chapter because I truly don't understand how they have remained friends....but then in TB Polworth goes and redeems himself big style...so......</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. *MORE POLWORTH LANGUAGE AND VIEWS* Why exactly DID she ring then?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Strike and Dave continue to talk and drink - as you can imagine the language and views of dear old Dave are canon...and rather extreme, but I am keeping the rating at M (I've added a tastefully placed *, but I think Polworth's meaning is clear!)</p><p>Robin features by way of a phone conversation with our boy.....here exact whereabouts are rather cryptic!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Thank Penny for looking after Ted won't you,” Cormoran eventually said when he’d returned with further pints for them both.</p><p>Dave tutted, “S’no trouble at all, but he’s livin’ the life o' Riley now. Got everyone in the town pretty much fussing around ‘im. He’s lovin’ it!”</p><p>“Still, I appreciate it. It’s her birthday in a couple of months isn’t it? Just before Christmas? I’d like to get her something to say thanks,” Strike stated, shrugging and adding a “What?” at his friend’s aghast expression.</p><p>“Bloody hell! What’s got into you Mr Flash It Around Gift Giver Extraordinaire!” he mocked.</p><p>“Well, it was brought to my attention that I should make an effort….so I have…..and I must admit, it feels pretty nice to give someone you appreciate a present that you’ve put a bit of thought into,” and he cleared his throat to try and cover the slight blush he could feel creeping to his cheeks stubbled cheeks.</p><p>“It’s Robin isn’t it?” Polworth stated grinning broadly, “She’s got you whipped and you’re not even dippin’ your wick!”</p><p>How the hell had he managed to make the conversation turn back to Robin?<br/>
Was he actually, subconsciously ALWAYS thinking about her?!<br/>
Cormoran rolled his eyes and lit another cigarette.</p><p>“You go given’ Penny extravagant birthday presents and I’ll end up lookin’ like a right twat!” Dave chuntered, “What did you get Robin for hers?”</p><p>Strike wrinkled his lips and puffed out his cheeks, knowing that to anyone else other than himself and Robin his choice of gift appeared rather odd.<br/>
“A donkey… called Henry.....don’t laugh!” but he was sniggering in spite of himself.</p><p>“Oh well then, if that’s the level of thoughtful gift I’m up against go ahead! Why the fuck did you get ‘er a donkey?” Dave Polworth had lifted his glass to his lips and failed to take a sip of beer three times as he tried to compute the information his friend had shared.</p><p>“It’s sort of a private joke,” Strike stated softy, his eyes becoming a little crinkled as he thought about their seaside adventure in Skegness, and the balloon, and then a subsequent case that had taken them to Whitstable when they had been forced into staying overnight….and had needed to share a twin bedded room….which had inexplicably featured an enormous wall mural of a pair of donkeys on the beach wearing straw hats!</p><p>“Oh…..so you two ‘ave got little private jokes ‘ave you?” Dave pouted his lips and nodded slowly. “An’ I bet she was all doe eyed and appreciative!”</p><p>Cormoran gave him a glare, “She may well have been rather enamoured with Henry…...although she did say he reminded her of me….not sure exactly what to make about that!”</p><p>Polworth sniggered obscenely, “OH! So she HAS seen your cock then?”</p><p>“She bloody well has not!” Strike shouted, although he shook his head good naturedly at his laughing friend and the comparison he was implying! “Hey, I even managed to keep myself under control…..or at least concealed when we had to share a room a few months ago!”</p><p>Dave rolled his eyes as he drank, “Oh bloody hell. The ‘There was only one room honest’ excuse...yeah, yeah! I believe you….although I reckon you’re a stupid c*nt and should just fucking ask her to sit on your face!”</p><p>“We’re not there! Definitely not….there...yet. But I don’t know….I’m not interested in anyone else, and I do like her. I just….oh I don’t know. I don’t wanna screw it all up. She deserves a fucking sight more than I can give her,” and Strike huffed out his cheeks.<br/>
He felt his phone buzz with an incoming call and looked, assuming it was Ted or maybe Pat from the office.<br/>
His belly leapt a little when he saw it was Robin.<br/>
He eyeballed and pointed at his friend, “Go get more drinks while I take this…..and shut up,” he said immediately before he answered saying, “Robin, how you doin?”</p><p>Polworth turned and did the ridiculously infantile thing of wrapping his arms around himself and pretending to snog himself before Strike kicked out at him with his leg making contact with his calf.<br/>
“Fucking hell! That was your metal one, you twat!” he stated, wincing and rubbing his leg before diving back inside the pub.</p><p>R : You OK? Is someone giving you grief?</p><p>C : Only Dave….he’s just being….well, Dave! Car sounds quiet, don’t tell me it’s finally broken down!</p><p>R : [giggling] No, I’ve just pulled over actually. Erm, stretching my legs. What are you up to?</p><p>C : Enjoying my local and doing as ordered, ie not thinking about work. </p><p>R : Good! I enjoyed my time with Henry today. He was looking incredibly handsome when I left….Mavis was not impressed by it, I think she’s glad I’ve gone and she can get her scruffy guy back.</p><p>C : [laughing] well, I’m sure he appreciated it…..even if only to make Mavis jealous! </p><p>There was a brief pause, each could hear the other breathing through the phone.</p><p>R : So is Ted OK?</p><p>C: Yeah…..he’s good. We went out on the boat earlier; having a seafood odyssey for supper later….shame you can’t join us, we’ve got a crab goin’ spare!</p><p>Robin could tell that he was grinning one of his crinkle eyed smiles….but maybe it was just because Polworth had brought him beer!<br/>
Dave had indeed replenished their drinks, but Strike’s wistful gaze was definitely as a result of him imagining Robin sat beside the crackling flames of the outside fire Ted would get burning later for their traditional crab cook out.</p><p>R: Well, that sounds a shame to miss out on. Catch you later, enjoy your pint.</p><p>C : Yep, ‘kay. Drive safely, bye.</p><p>With a deep sigh he placed his phone down and pouted.</p><p>“Work?” Polworth asked, settling back down across the wooden table from Strike.</p><p>“Nah...just….,” he tried to summarise and clarify the exact reason for the call from Robin.<br/>
Weird…..she hadn’t been asking anything in particular!<br/>
She’d asked about Ted, and what he was doing but had she actually had a reason to call?<br/>
She’d said she’d enjoyed her day with Henry…...that was it then!</p><p>“She was telling me about the second part of her present today…..quality time with Henry at the Donkey Sanctuary!” he added sniffing.</p><p>“Oooh, you jealous? Bet you’d pay a shitload more than you gave the fucking Donkey Sanctuary for a couple of hours quality time with ‘er!” </p><p>Strike rolled his eyes and exhaled in exasperation, “Chum, you are vile….I don’t know how you ever managed to get a woman like Penny to agree to marry you….and stay married to you!” he smirked, “However…….you’re fucking right, I’d sign away my will if she did to me what I saw her doing to that lucky fucking donkey yesterday!”</p><p>Both men clinked glasses afresh and drank before Dave asked about the fishing trip and they started chatting about life in general; Dave’s garden job and Penny’s relocation.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>More Polworth tomorrow.....I love the man.....but I would have to slap him!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. *POLWORTH IS STILL AROUND She's proper teg, Diddy!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Who could possibly wander up and find the boys outside the pub?<br/>Robin makes quite the first impression on Dave</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In my head canon Strike likes the black and red jelly babies and wine gums, Robin likes the green and orange and they save the ones the other likes best......'cos, you know.....they lurve each other!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Robin’s previous confidence had started to wobble as she’d parked up the Land Rover and then realised the absurdity of what she was doing.<br/>
She also realised she hadn’t got a clue what to do next!</p><p>The driving and following road signs part had kept her mind occupied up until she’d slapped the pay and display sticker in the window of the Land Rover and thrown her sunglasses and cross body bag on over her short jacket and casually wrapped scarf.<br/>
There was an unmistakable tang of ozone in the air and the sound of sea birds added a different sensory thrill to the crisp but pleasant air.</p><p>Her conversation with Strike had established his location - she knew his favoured pub was called The Victory Inn, so she tapped the details into her Google Maps app and set off having turned the direction pointer thingy the right way.</p><p>As she strolled along, off the ‘main’ road and up into the narrow, windy and in some cases pretty steep smaller streets, she was struck by how beautiful the place felt.<br/>
It was a bit ramshackle in places, UPVC didn’t appear to have made it to some of the properties with their painted, wooden framed windows, and she couldn’t help but be amused at the idea of her massive colleague trying to bend himself through some of the low doorways.</p><p>Her initial enthusiasm, buoyed on by lungfuls of Henry’s musty animal scent and Mavis’ almost primal declaration of marking him out as very much her guy was now feeling a bit silly and teenage girl crushy.<br/>
But as she turned to ascend Victory Hill she heard a familar deep, resonating laugh and glancing further up the narrow pathway spotted him, seated on a wooden bench seat, swigging from a pint glass, cigarette in hand and stabbing his index finger against the worn surface of the table in a manner she knew meant, ‘I am not budging from my point of view on this so don’t even try!’</p><p>A small, audible giggle escaped her lips and she found herself dragging her hand through her loose hair before placing her phone into her pocket, leaving her hand tucked there and sliding her sunglasses up onto the top of her head.</p><p>“I’ve told you this before Chum, I’m all for pride in where you come from but I am not gonna join the petition for Cornish independence….anyway, you make enough noise about it for the whole of St Mawes!” and he startled as he saw a very familiar head of amber coloured hair approaching. “Robin!?”</p><p>She’d caught him completely off guard, but the fractional raise of his backside, as if he was going to stand and hug her didn’t go unnoticed by her as she stood smiling and biting her lip, squinting in the sunshine.</p><p>“No way am I gonna believe you took a wrong turning!” he stated, finally gathering himself and forming a sentence.<br/>
He gave her one of his lop sided, crinkle eyed smiles and for some reason truly noticed how full and pink her lips were.</p><p>Dave Polworth sat transfixed - partly at the sudden and unexpected change to his friend’s demeanour, but mainly because even though he’d seen pictures of Robin before he was gob smacked at how stunning she was in real life.<br/>
The sun almost created a halo effect on her hair, and her long legs and generously curved backside and tits were definitely hitting the parts other beers cannot reach!</p><p>“Well….I was half way here already, and I thought it was about time I saw where mini-Strike had his formative years,” she cheekily quipped, “I’m getting a drink, you boys OK?”<br/>
Receiving an affirmative nod from Strike and an open mouthed blank stare from the smaller man she turned on her heels and headed inside the old building and ordered white wine at the blue painted bar.</p><p>“Fuck...in'…..hellllll!” Polworth finally managed. “How the shit do you manage to get anything done with THAT around! She’s fucking stunning mate!”</p><p>Strike knew that there was a blush beneath his facial hair, but merely gave a smug grin.</p><p>“Yeah but I don’t know why she’s here…..she was supposed to be back in London….why the fuck’s she come here?” he whispered.</p><p>Dave gave his friend a leering nudge beneath the table with his leg, “She’s come here for a damn good seein’ to if you ask me….which you did! Get in there Diddy, she’s gagging for it! Fill ‘er up with a proper Cornish flagpole!”</p><p>Strike rolled his eyes at Polworth’s usual candid and ‘alright in the 1970s’ view of male and female relationships.</p><p>“Shut the fuck up!” he said, but couldn’t help but laugh outloud as Polworth hissed various comments along the lines of, “Diddy’s gonna get some!” “You haven’t had any in so long she’d better not go on top or she’ll fly off!”<br/>
“Dave I swear! Shut the fuck up and be nice!” Cormoran hissed again as he saw Robin making her way outside to join them.</p><p>“What you sayin? I’m always nice I am!” and the smaller man, who instantly reminded Robin of a marginally more respectable Shanker stood up as she reached the table. “Nice to meet you Robin, I’m Dave. Welcome to St Mawes and the sight of what I think was the location of the first time Diddy found a woman’s G spot!” and he indicated the wooden bench area in general as Strike groaned and buried his head in the bend of his elbow resting on the metal railing.</p><p>“Fuck’s sake!” he hissed, but Robin sniggered and merely quipped, “Ooooh, I’ll be careful where I sit then!” and then adopting a broad and fairly passable Cornish lilt said, “Budge up moiy luvvurrr!” and she swung her foot over the seat before sitting beside Cormoran. </p><p>Polworth’s impression of Robin was 100% sealed in that single retort she gave him.<br/>
If Diddy didn’t love her, then he’d have to!</p><p>“How come you’re here embarrassing me and not in London?” Strike asked, tilting his neck and watching as she took a long sip of her wine.</p><p>She shrugged and pouted her lips in a way that Strike’s anatomy had grown accustomed to, but clearly Polworth’s hadn’t as he gave a poorly concealed whimper and altered his position on the seat.<br/>
Strike gave his friend a death glare!</p><p>“It was a whim! I just thought why should you be having all the fun of a few days off and Pat called me and said that Top Trumps had cancelled for tomorrow…..nothing serious, just he’s got a dentist appointment….and the road sign said The West so…..I bought a bag of jelly babies and here I am!” Robin explained, feeling that her feeble excuse actually didn’t sound too bad outloud. “And I thought I could drive us both back; save you the pain of swapping trains and the expense.”</p><p>Strike nodded and considered the information she had shared  - limited and carefully worded, but not unwelcome.</p><p>“You save me the black ones?” Strike asked, his eyebrows arched impishly.<br/>
Robin returned the mischievous look (Polworth considered clearing his throat to remind the oblivious pair of his presence, but in a freak flash of empathy decided against it!)</p><p>“Half of them!” and she laughed as Strike clutched at his heart and made a face of aghast disbelief. “I got desperate behind a tractor around Penhale!”</p><p>Strike gave a smile which his old friend noted; it made him feel warm inside; it was a smile that took him straight back to when they were 6, larking on the beach, crabbing together in rock pools with scuffed knees, lazy summers spent roaming the coastal pathways.</p><p>“Suppose I’d better introduce you to Uncle Ted then!” Strike grinned lop sidedly.</p><p>Robin smiled back at him, “And Joan….I want to go out on a boat and….meet her too.”<br/>
Strike's hooded green eyes locked for a fraction of a second longer than was strictly necessary on Robin's blue-grey ones to convey the inner thought of 'Christ, you're perfect.'</p><p>“Well fucking hell Diddy! Talk about feelin’ like a fifth wheel! I’d better leave the pair o’ you to it….although just ‘cos he found that sweet spot ‘ere once don’t mean he’ll be certain of hitting it again!” Polworth drained the dregs of his pint and moved to stand up, but Robin put out her hand as Strike repeatedly shook his head and snarled in a mixture of annoyance and amusement.</p><p>“Awww, stay, please…..it’s just me and grumpy boots here all the time,” and she poked her tongue out jokily at Strike’s huffing breath and raised eyebrows directed towards her. </p><p>And so the trio passed a loud and raucous couple of hours, and several further rounds of drinks, plus a round of bowls of chips together.<br/>
Robin enjoyed listening to their stories of childhood japes; school yard scrapes and misdemeanours, Dave enjoyed their easy banter regarding life in ‘the big smoke’ and both men listened with a mixture of awe, mirth and contempt to Robin’s tales about her ‘twat of an ex-husband’.....all 3 were equally enchanted.</p><p>Robin made an excuse to visit the loo.</p><p>“Well? Come on…..get it all out of your system while you can!” Strike quipped, prepared for a barrage of unsavoury, pre-feminist comments.</p><p>Instead Dave Polworth placed his palm on his old friend’s shoulder, “She’s proper teg Diddy!”</p><p>Strike nodded and hissed softly, “She fuckin’ is!”</p><p>“So, with that in mind, and given that she’s downed over a bottle of wine….I’m leaving you to it pal!” and Polworth stood up, stretching out his muscles which had tightened due to the wooden bench seat. “Fuckin’ do somethin’, right?”<br/>
And he dragged his hand across his cropped hair, wobbling slightly down the hill towards the harbour road leaving Cormoran to consider whether he actually wanted another cigarette….he’d made his way through quite a few over the course of the day.</p><p>With a reviving ruffle of his splayed hand through his hair he exhaled and buried his nose into the softness of his blue scarf - there was enough ingrained nicotine in there for a few lungfuls for free!</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Teg is a Cornish word for beautiful!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. S'mates stuff, isn't it?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Robin takes advantage of The Victory Inn 2 for 1 on shots offer<br/>And of course Cormoran finally takes her home.....to meet Ted.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Robin returned she noticed that it had become much darker outside - she hadn’t noticed until she’d emerged from the artificially lit pub interior.<br/>
She was also carrying a tray containing 6 shot glasses.<br/>
“Where’s Dave gone? I got a round of shots….but they’re 2 for one!” and she giggled giddily as she clambered onto the seat opposite Cormoran and vacated by Polworth.</p><p>“If you down those I will never in a million years get you up the hill to Ted’s!” he laughed, grimacing as he sniffed at the glass of clear liquid she’d passed him from the tray, and which he’d assumed was tequila, “What the fuck is this? Smells like Play-doh!”</p><p>“It’s vanilla vodka….neck it you’ve got 2 more after that!” and she drained her glass giving her backside a wriggle as the heat from the alcohol hit her chest.</p><p>Strike disguised the groan of desire she unleashed from him as a growl of disgust at the flavour of the awful drink.<br/>
“Bloody hell, Ellacott! Why the fuck couldn’t you get tequila like a normal person!” </p><p>Robin shrugged, “Too predictable! And as I think I’ve proved today…..it’s more fun when I decide to be unpredictable!”</p><p>“Very true if today is anything to go by, although actually I was pretty unpredictable yesterday too, and that seemed to work out OK…..how was Henry today?” he asked, taking a sip of his remaining beer and shuddering at the flavour following on from the vanilla.<br/>
Robin pouted and trailed her finger tips across the rough painted wood of the table.</p><p>“He’s gorgeous! It was lovely to have him all to myself to pet and cuddle and fuss over…..some guys don’t seem to mind all that!” and she waggled her eyebrows at Strike’s rueful grin.</p><p>“Well, I’m glad you got it out of your system! Save the fussing for the donkeys!” he sighed.</p><p>“That sounds like an album by Mumford and Sons!” she giggled and snorted, making herself laugh more, and setting off her burly partner in shoulder shaking laughter.</p><p>“Well, here’s to Henry…..may he recover his dark, mysterious and slightly shambolic naturalness quickly….poor bugger!” and he lifted a second of the shots, clinked it to Robins and tossed it down his throat.</p><p>Robin drank hers and winced, “God this stuff is vile…..what does the smell remind me of?” and she slapped her lips trying to work out the conundrum.</p><p>“No idea! But it doesn’t taste like booze….tastes more like cake!” he breathed deeply and leant back against the metal railings on his side of the bench seat.</p><p>Robin wasn’t satisfied though, “No…..it’s something else it reminds me of,” and she breathed against her hand, sniffing before lifting one of the last remaining shot glasses and sniffing again, her lips pouting.</p><p>Strike realised his mouth had fallen open as he stared at her and promptly clicked his fingers, pointing his index finger towards her, “S’that perfume!” he announced, nodding.</p><p>Robin wrinkled her nose and smelled her wrist, “No it isn’t….smells nothing like my perfume!” she gave him a bemused glare; at least she aimed it vaguely towards one of the slightly blurred shapes opposite her.</p><p>“Lemme check,” he grinned, impishly and crooked his finger in a her in a 'come hither' manner that instantly made her think of Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing.<br/>
She giggled and leaned across offering her wrist to him which he caught and clasped, pulling her further across the table towards him, allowing him to nuzzle his hot, tobacco scented face into the unfeasibly soft silkiness of her hair and neck.<br/>
She felt and heard him inhale deeply, before he exhaled long and slow with a rumbling growl.</p><p>“See, I’m right!” she announced , slightly breathless as she returned to her seat on the bench, rather grateful that it wasn’t plastic or she feared she might have slid straight off!</p><p>He gave an almost obscene, masculine giggle, “Didn’t ac’shuly mean that perfume….meant the other one….first one you let me choose between!”</p><p>Robin pouted and tried to assume mock anger, but failed, “You tricked me Strike! Forfeit! You have to drink both those!” and she lined up the remaining glasses infront of him, “I’ll collapse if have another!”</p><p>He nodded sagely, “Punishment accepted….if only to prevent you from puking on the way ‘ome!” and he downed one then the second glass, shaking his head like a dog emerging from the sea. “Come on, I need to move and I need to get your room sorted out at Ted’s.”</p><p>Robin unfolded herself, “I can stay in a hotel, I don’t want to impose….that wasn’t really my plan...I didn’t like want to ambush you here,” she slurred, wobbling and almost loosing her footing on one of the cobbled steps that Strike was used to - he could probably find his way home from the Victory blindfolded without losing his footing.</p><p>“I’ll have you know I’m a changed man Ellacott! Done a lot of self work this past year…..might not mind being ambushed…..might not see it as an ambush if you’re doing it,” he said waiting for her to make her way around to join him and draping an arm across her shoulder heavily, making her grunt slightly, his hand waving freely. “S’mates stuff, isn’it?”</p><p>And the pair limped and puffed their way up the hill and along what Robin would have appreciated as an incredibly picturesque pathway had she not been trying to control her urge to suck on one of Strike’s fingers as it dangled just slightly out of reach of her mouth, but they made it to Ted’s cottage with only one minor cockle over of Robin’s ankle.<br/>
Only when they reached the front door, (which even in her sozzled state Robin could see was incredibly low, and she wondered how on earth Strike managed to tackle it) did they consider practicalities.</p><p>“Where’s the Land Rover?” Strike asked at the same time as Robin announced, “My luggage is still in the Land Rover in town!”<br/>
Both sniggered and Strike waved his hand in a manner which implied, ‘doesn’t matter’.</p><p>It was only about 8 o’clock in the evening, but having spent most of the day either driving, on a boat, and then in the fresh air outside a pub the pair were exhausted.</p><p>“Go in!” Strike stated bluntly and almost pushed her through the small door, folding his shoulders and neck in a time practised manner to cope with the low door frame.</p><p>“Is that you Corm’ran?” came a familiar, deep but warm Cornish accent, followed by a white haired form who seemed far too large for the small hallway.<br/>
The house smelled, to Robin’s senses, perfectly of furniture polish, toast and faintly of peppermints.<br/>
Ted stopped in surprise, but gave her one of the most twinkling smiles Robin had ever seen….he reminded her of Father Christmas….although maybe that was the effects of several large glasses of wine!</p><p>“Robin!” he stated, eyes wide with surprise, “How lovely to meet you sweet gurl,” and he clasped his arms firmly around her, dragging her into a warm hug.</p><p>Robin felt instantly at home.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. This is a very bouncy bed!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Back at Ted's house they are in for a crab cook out - Ted has a suggestion for Robin's lack of belongings, which involve a little interaction involving that very squeaky bed of Cormoran's.....[not that kind of interaction....keep it clean folks!]<br/>Poor old Corm is utterly doomed!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Strike blushed fractionally and turned, slightly misty eyed as he watched Ted’s eyes drift close upon holding Robin close and using that particular term of endearment.<br/>
Joan had always been his 'sweet gurl'…...to hear him refer to Robin with the same name was rather moving.</p><p>“Come on the pair of you, I need a pee!” he stated bluntly, making them all laugh slightly and shuffle along the narrow hallway and into the living room.</p><p>Ted encouraged Robin to “Get yourself comfy there” before popping through to the kitchen and by the sounds of things starting to make a pot of tea.<br/>
Strike disappeared and judging by the rattling pipework had used the loo before he reappeared, without his sweater, raking his hand through his seriously disrupted hair ‘style’.</p><p>For some reason he felt suddenly self conscious as he decided where to sit in the living room which was so familiar to him.<br/>
Usually he’d have sprawled in one of the easy chairs with Ted taking the other, but as Robin had sat down on the sofa he didn’t want to seem distant and was therefore considering his options when Ted’s voice sounded.</p><p>“You still want those crabs cooking?” he shouted and Strike gave a twinkling ‘Ooooo’ with his mouth towards Robin.<br/>
“I’d forgotten about them!” he stated honestly, “You up for a cook out?” he directed the first comment through the doorway and the second to Robin.</p><p>“Erm, yeah….but I’m seriously knackered without my case…..got nothing to change into, I’ll stink like a bonfire!” she replied, flashing him a slightly pathetic gaze from beneath her wind blown hair.</p><p>“I’ll find you something,” he rumbled, trying to calm the excitement he felt at the thought of Robin wearing items of his clothing.</p><p>Ted appeared bearing a tray of teapot, sugar bowl and milk jug, “Go fetch the mugs Cormoran, and I’ll light up the fire while that brews,” and he placed the tray down on the coffee table.<br/>
Strike popped out of the room, returning with 3 matching striped mugs.</p><p>“I’ll go find you a jumper….don’t worry we’ve got communal ones especially for outside….might smell of fag smoke though!” and he wrinkled his lips ruefully before mounting the stairs and rummaging around above her based on the creaking floorboards and thump….and the hissed, “Shit!”<br/>
Robin stirred the tea and started to pour a cup for herself, allowing the teabags to permeate the water more fully before pouring Strike’s</p><p>“How does Ted like his tea?” she asked as he reappeared, rubbing his forehead, “You OK?”</p><p>“Always forget about the sloping roof when I’ve been in the Victory all afternoon! Can’t think why! Like me for Ted’s tea,” he said grinning, tossing a huge plum coloured sweater at her.<br/>
It weighed a tonne!<br/>
“Bloody hell!” she squeaked, “I might not be able to stand up if I put this on!”</p><p>“Shut up woman! It’ll keep you warm….and the only place to eat fresh cooked crab properly is outside…..or in the bath!” he added, “Messy!” he clarified as she tugged the item over her head.<br/>
Both laughed as the hemline reached below her knees, each sleeve hanging over her hands by a good 6 inches.<br/>
She roughly hitched the sleeves back and blew wisps of amber hair from her glowing cheeks and picked up her mug plus Ted’s, “Come on then…..outside option it is!”</p><p>Strike was momentarily frozen to the spot.<br/>
The combination of several pints of Doom Bar, several shots of odd vanilla based alcohol  and the sight of Robin in these surroundings, looking like a goddess in an old, slightly plucked sweater that was large enough to fit both of them inside made him have to pause and regain a semblance of balance to his precarious equilibrium.</p><p>Best mates…...just best mates he said to himself as he poured his own tea and followed her outside, pulling a grey sweater of a similar style and size off a peg beside the backdoor and joining her and Ted outside.</p><p>The crackling fire, lit with the efficiency of one for whom it was a regular occurrence, blazed in the rough, brick built grill.<br/>
Cormoran fetched their catch from where it had been sitting in cold water beside the shed since earlier and Robin took the opportunity of getting up close and personal with the still living crustaceans before Ted placed them into the huge pan of water and placed on the lid.<br/>
“Lull ‘em to sleep in the water first,” he stated, as much to the creatures themselves as to Robin. “And then make sure you eat the lot…...somethin’ that gives it’s life so that we can eat deserves not to have a morsel left behind!”</p><p>Strike smoked a couple more cigarettes, but Ted noticed that he hadn’t had as many as he’d normally have during a cook out!<br/>
He seemed more interested in talking with Robin…..that was a good sign, surely!</p><p>Ted overheard Robin bemoaning the fact that her case was still in the car, so she only had the items in her small crossbody bag until she retrieved it.<br/>
“There’s some bits of Lucy’s up there, in that big drawer in the spare room, Corm, show her and put that extra quilt on the single bed won’t you while you’re up there,” and he turned his attention to the pot, “Needs a good 10 minutes longer,” he announced in a whisper.<br/>
Robin wondered whether he was narrating the events for Joan…...her dad had admitted that he still did that around the house, as if Rowntree was still around and listening to his every word.</p><p>Robin followed Strike up the stairs of the cottage, finding her eyes drawn to the wide bulk of his thighs and noticing, not for the first time, that his backside was rather pert and muscular looking as he hauled himself up the steep treads.</p><p>She followed him into a room which had an open door; it was clearly where he was sleeping as his kit bag was open, various items spilling<br/>
out of it and a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms neatly tucked partially under the pillow.</p><p>He headed for the oak chest of drawers and opened the largest drawer, “Right, let’s have a look,” he stated, casually glancing over his shoulder and smirking as Robin flopped down on the bed, bouncing gently on the well worn in springs.</p><p>She giggled as the bed squeaked beneath her.<br/>
Strike sniggered too but remained focused on the contents of the drawer, until he caught sight of a lacy bra and some neatly folded knickers.<br/>
Staring at his sister’s underwear or staring at Robin bouncing on his bed was a tricky decision - both would wreak havoc with his equilibrium in very different ways!</p><p> </p><p>Turning to face Robin he rested his buttocks against the edge of the tall chest of drawers and inhaled sharply as she continued giggling and lay back on the bed, her legs dangling over the side of the mattress.</p><p>“This,” she sniggered, her voice dipping into a rumbling softness which was stirring all manner of turmoil within Strike’s…..let’s say belly, “Is a very bouncy bed,” and she proceeded to press one foot against the floor to make her move up and down on the bed.<br/>
The springs let out a rhythmical squeaking sound as accompaniment, making her arch her eyebrows lasciviously.</p><p>“It’s also a very squeaky bed!” he stated, “Don’t you dare puke on it!” he added grinning and grasping the edge of the furniture to anchor himself firmly across the other side of the room rather than fling himself across her recumbent body.</p><p>Robin paused briefly and then took up her purposeful squeaking and bouncing again.<br/>
Strike couldn’t help but wish that she wasn’t covered in the massive, shapeless sweater - he hated himself for mentally picturing what she’d look like right now if she was wearing the cream, tight fitting sweater that he liked her in so much…...there would undoubtedly be rather a lot of undulating movement going on around her chest region!</p><p>She looked directly at him as his gaze remained on her, “Has this always been your room?” she asked.</p><p>He shook his head, “Nope, I always had the one across the way, the one with the single bed….that you have to be in because I’ve already slept in these sheets and you decided to turn up unannounced!” he waggled his finger at her with mock sternness.</p><p>“Makes more sense for you to have the bigger bed…..you’re bigger!” and she couldn’t prevent her eyes flashing quickly across his body….and was it his imagination or did they linger at his groin?</p><p>“Well, that may be the case, but I’d still do the chivalrous thing and offer it to you under normal circumstances!.....plus I’d be able to hear if you got up and needed something….” he realised that his comment could have been construed in a number of ways…..he considered clarifying his meaning but thought better of it as on reflection he wasn’t exactly sure where the line he wouldn’t cross would be.</p><p>Robin glanced and saw that Strike’s gaze was momentarily focused on the rug, his teeth toying with his lower lip on one side, which she knew was one of his distraction tics.</p><p>She noisily squeaked again on the bed, “Have you ever had sex on this squeaky bed?” she asked, seeing him glance across at her from beneath sexily lowered lashes, a wolfish smirk beneath his facial hair.</p><p>“No comment!” he stated, shaking his head and indicating the open drawer, “D’you wanna look in here and find some stuff to wear or not….Ted will not be happy if the crabs are overcooked because we’re skulking up here!”</p><p>“Who’s skulking? I’m having a great time!” and she giggled again, but did roll across and pull herself upright, padding across to rummage around in the items, finding a pair of lace trimmed pyjamas that looked as though they’d fit which she waggled infront of Strike.<br/>
“Right, that way!” and he physically twisted her around, steering her by her shoulders as she leaned back, walking with her feet sticking out oddly.</p><p>“No comment is NOT an answer by the way!” she stated, turning her face fractionally and finding herself staring up at Strike’s stubbled neck above his thick jumper which smelled so gloriously like him that she was sure a special ‘Cormoran thread’ had been knitted into the wool.</p><p>He ignored her face, but felt her eyes on him for a little longer than a casual glance.<br/>
Pausing just across the hall he removed one hand, flicked on the light and steered her into the smallest bedroom with it’s single bed.<br/>
“You’re in here, bathroom’s the one with the sign on it,” and he indicated the door at the end of the landing with a ceramic sign in swirling script decorated with pink and purple roses.</p><p>Robin tossed the night clothes onto the bed as he dragged open the small wardrobe, removing a polka dotted quilt which he draped across the bottom of the bed.<br/>
“Cormoran?” she said softly, looking back at him as he was framed in the doorway, “Thank you….and…..can I ask for another favour?”</p><p>He nodded numbly,<br/>
His brain shouted, I’ll do absolutely ANYTHING for you Robin, name it!</p><p>“Can you show me how to tackle a whole crab….I’ve never had one before!” she giggled, “Oh, and just so you know….I’m taking your no comment as a definite YES with regards to the bed and sexy times!” and she trotted down the stairs, glancing back up at him from the bottom flashing him a glorious smile before shouting, “Are you coming? How’s the food doing Ted?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Cormoran + Crab = Curiously Kinky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>OK, so this chapter is basically food porn - crustacean kink extreme!<br/>I got rather carried away with the subtle flavours of crab and lobster....and the similarities of that sweet, juiciness (you know where I'm going with this!)....and if we can crowd fund for Tom Burke, portraying Cormoran to bury his face in a crab shell while he licks it out I willing to direct the scene for free!....admittedly he'd possibly only get one take at it because I would explode and ruin the continuity!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>These are Cornish crabs - so a couple of largish claws and smaller legs - stouter than a snow crab. When cooked then shell is a sort of speckled terracotta colour, and the shell is usually the size of a man's palm - certainly Corm's palm sized, hence why he can hold it to his face and lick it out!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Strike groaned and lumbered more slowly and noisily down the stairs and found both his uncle and Robin peering into the enormous pan.<br/>
“There you are! Right, you tip out the water and I’ll go get us something to drink,” Ted instructed and bustled past Cormoran who placed his cigarette back into the pack unlit and ambled across to the glowing embers of the fire.</p><p>He told Robin to step back and clamped a battered metal lid on the bubbling pot before lifting the whole thing and turning it up allowing the boiling water to drain out through the randomly pierced holes in the lid.<br/>
He twisted off the lid and dumped the contents on the wooden plank beside the fire and discarded the pan and lid in a manner which explained the various dents in the vessel.</p><p>“Right, initiation time Ellacott!” he twinkled and rubbed his palms together nudging the collection of legs, shell and claws as they steamed gently.</p><p>Ted appeared carrying 3 bottles of beer, “Only thing to drink with crab!” he stated as Robin winced….more alcohol!<br/>
To be fair, the walk and the mug of tea had sobered her up a little, but this was just going to top up her blood alcohol ratio!</p><p>“Robin, love, there’s a bloomer on the kitchen table, can you grab that while we start on these?” Ted requested and Robin placed down the bottle of beer before heading into the house.</p><p>Inside the warm cosiness she took the opportunity of going to the loo and washing her hands, then having a large glass of water from the tap.<br/>
She made a soft whimper as she caught sight of Strike deftly twisting and yanking the legs from a crab as if he’d been doing it all his life…..which he probably had!<br/>
She picked up the crusty loaf from the table - it looked amazing with it’s deep cuts in the top crust and a smattering of flour.</p><p>“Here we go,” Ted smiled, “This your first Cornish crab then is it?”<br/>
Robin nodded and stared at the rather brutal looking array of leaking limbs and shell covered body parts.</p><p>“Where do I start?” she wrinkled her nose and held her fingers gingerly over the various parts of dismembered crustacean.</p><p>“I’ll go fetch a knife for that lobster,” Ted announced and pottered off inside again, glancing over his shoulder at his nephew and the gorgeous young lady that his beloved Joan had always said was ‘the one’ despite never having met her.</p><p>Strike twisted one of the legs and cracked the shell offering it to Robin before repeating the action with a second.<br/>
He tugged off pieces of the broken shell before crushing the end to his lips to retrieve the succulent white flesh within.<br/>
“Suck and nibble,” he said through a mouthful of crab meat.</p><p>Robin stifled a throaty moan at the knowledge of what else Strike’s lips could address with a similar pair of actions.</p><p>She copied what he was doing and sighed in delight at the flavour of soft, succulent crab meat.<br/>
“Oh my GOD! That is amazing!” she groaned, no longer trying to cover the range of noises emanating from her, feeling they were completely justified by the taste of glorious seafood.</p><p>“Nothin’ finer!” Ted added having rejoined them, tucking into a leg himself and efficiently removing a long sliver of meat from the leg before bending and cracking the natural joint and sucking out more meat.</p><p>Robin noticed that both Ted and Cormoran tossed the bones and detritus onto the glowing embers of the fire which had been used to cook the seafood on so she followed suit once she’d sucked and licked as much of the flaky meat from the leg in her fingers.<br/>
Ted lifted the main crab body and showed Robin how to remove the sections which were unpleasant to eat before revealing the darker meat inside and tucked into the shell cavity.<br/>
He grabbed a hunk of the bread and scooped out some of the stickier, gloopy brown ‘meat’, slapping his lips happily as he munched on the morsel.</p><p>Robin tasted the brown meat and was surprised at the different flavour.<br/>
Preferring the white meat she ate several more of the legs while Cormoran buried his face in the body shell of a second crab, licking around to get every speck of delicious crab from it.<br/>
Jesus, it was obscene!</p><p>In the dimmed light he caught her watching him and felt slightly self conscious, “What? I like to be thorough!” he stated, absently using his thumb to flick a stray piece of crab into his mouth.<br/>
Oh Christ…..a man who devoured a crab with that level of abandon and enthusiasm…..it didn’t bear thinking about…..and yet she couldn’t stop!</p><p>“You wanna deal with that lobster lad,” Ted suggested, washing down his crust with a swig from his bottle of lager.</p><p>Strike put down his own beer and picked up the lobster.<br/>
Again he deftly twisted and ripped the legs and claws off the main body before taking up the large knife and arranging the lobster on the wooden board. </p><p>“See this line here,” he indicated to Robin, she moved a step closer and traced over the visible marking on the shell. “It’s the weakest part of the shell. Come on…..won’t learn if you don’t try,” and he invited her closer to him, angling the knife so that she could accept it into her right hand.</p><p>“This looks very complicated and alien!” she giggled and prodded gently at the crustacean, hearing and feeling the toughness of the outer shell which even in her slightly tipsy state she could tell would be tricky for her and the knife to deal with.</p><p>Strike inhaled deeply - the combination of quite a hefty amount of booze, Robin’s delicious perfume and the almost sensory overload from the flavour and manner of eating the fresh seafood was playing havoc with his equilibrium….AGAIN!<br/>
And yet he was inviting her closer, inviting her to press into his side, his arm wrapped over her shoulder as he helped her angle the knife point downwards.</p><p>“Now, just push it in…...sharp, and quite…..forcefully,” his voice was a deliciously seductive rumble next to her ear, his body large and firm behind her, surrounding her.<br/>
His mind was working overtime on the fact that each of the instructions he needed to give her could be taken in a different meaning entirely.<br/>
“Press down, and work your way all the way down, and slide the knife through….that’s it….perfect!”</p><p>She could feel his breath and solid heartbeat behind her, and his hand above hers holding the knife was strong and capable as she tried valiantly to focus on chopping through the leaking lobster shell without stabbing either herself or her work partner.</p><p>That’s all he is…..just a work colleague….and my best friend she thought, as she realised she’d been holding her breath, only letting out a gush of air and a slight sob as the tip of the knife cleaved the lobster in two.</p><p>“Well, that was….erm….quite easy really,” she stated, numbly placing the knife onto the wooden board and clearing her throat as Strike sniffed loudly behind her.</p><p>“Tail’s the juiciest part,” he said, wincing about the fact that every single statement he was coming out with seemed to have a filthy alternative meaning.</p><p>Ted came over and dispatched the claw, claiming “My pots, my boat, my claw!” and receiving a firmly accepting nod and salute from his nephew.</p><p>The mixture of seafood and bread had gone some way to soaking up the amount of alcohol he’d consumed meaning that he was back at the happy, cuddly, wistful level of inebriation.<br/>
He’d drained his beer and went inside to use the loo, and wash the crab and lobster detritus from his lips, hands and beard.</p><p>He met Ted on the way back outside.</p><p>“I’m gonner leave you two to it…...don’t stay up too late though, that gurl’s had a hell of a long drive to get to you!”</p><p>Strike gave a soft huff of breath, “You make it sound like she was on a mercy dash!”</p><p>“Well, I can only speak as I see it….and she came ‘ere instead of going back to London by herself….and she’s devilishly teg….but you know that!” and he chuckled and grinned, patting his nephew soundly on the shoulder before climbing the stairs.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Why did you drive down here....really?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ted has left the ridiculous pair to it....both slightly squiffy.....we all know what we'd LIKE to happen.<br/>But of course they are still doing that 'we're best mates' thing that drives us all nuts.<br/>It doesn't prevent a few rather un 'best mate-like' thoughts crossing both minds in the sanctuary of their own beds!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>EVERYONE needs to find at least one pal who they can slob out with and not give a shit about their appearance because they know the other person doesn't care!....and if they can do that on a balcony whilst drinking and smoking and feeding nuts to rodents, so much the better!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Robin’s ethereal pose, perching on her elbows looking out at the sea, her hair gently blowing and lit in the amber glow of the remnants of the fire was marred slightly by the fact that she was hiccuping and swaying a little.</p><p>“You OK?” he asked gently, knowing full well that the beer she’d drunk had possibly not been the wisest choice!</p><p>“I’m fine…..the lobster has fortificated me nicely!” She grinned, wrinkling her nose at his amused expression, “Is that not the word? Fortification….nope, that’s a castle,” she then held her index finger aloft and almost shrieked, “FORTIFIED! That’s what it is. I like lobster!” and she giggled.</p><p>“Well, you know. I’m the kind of man about town who plies women with Champagne and lobster!” and he moved across beside her, grinned down at her partially recumbent form against the crumbling wall. “But of course you know that!” and he took a cigarette from the pack using his teeth, lighting it with a flourish.</p><p>She giggled with him, “More like a curry and a pint kind of guy…..but both are nice,” she murmured.</p><p>Maybe it was the setting, maybe it was the combination of alcohol and tasty food, maybe it was the sight of Robin looking ruffled, relaxed and completely glorious but he felt something akin to bravery and curiosity rear it’s head.</p><p>“Why did you drive down here…..really?” he asked, purposefully casting his gaze out at the sea rather than meet her blue-grey gaze.<br/>She looked at his bashed and beautiful profile and saw that his hand was clenched in a fist beside him, his oddly gnarled thumb caressing his knuckles, waiting for her response.</p><p>“Honestly?.......I don’t really know, it just felt…..right. I mean if I told you that I was inspired by Mavis….the donkey….” she clarified seeing his features narrow fractionally before he relaxed and smiled again in recollection.</p><p>“Henry’s girl,” he nodded softly.</p><p>“Yeah...I don’t know…..she seemed to be in full control of what she was doing and determined to just do stuff that she wanted and I through, bugger it, I don’t fancy driving back to London on my own, I fancy seeing you and….having a laugh,” and she shrugged</p><p>He nodded, turning his face towards her at last, his mouth set in an unreadable expression.<br/>“Right,” he stated softly. “Well, I’m glad you came…..have you had a laugh?”</p><p>“Of course I have!” she said, “I love that we can mess about and have fun and I don’t have to worry about…..anything,” and she shrugged at her appearance, “I mean look at me! This jumper is hardly the sexiest look; the smoke off the fire has made my mascara run and my hair is like a bird’s nest…..and it’s fine, because neither of us give a shit about crap like that! I know as a man that might not resonate with you, but as a woman, trust me, it is rare to be in a social situation with anyone where the way you look isn’t a consideration. With you, I can look like anything and it’s fine!”</p><p>Her speech was still slightly slurred and Strike assumed that her tongue had been loosened by the alcohol content in her body; but it was nice to hear her talk so freely and openly. <br/>But she was quite wrong if she felt that her appearance was of no concern or consideration to him…..she looked completely beautiful to him, all of the time, but never more so than now wearing his knee length, saggy jumper with her amber hair a wind blown mess and her lips still slightly shimmering from the crab and lobster.</p><p>He smirked thinking about some of her amazing work based disguises, “I’ve certainly seen you wearing quite a few different looks….not sure where this one could fit into inner city London?” he laughed, reaching out and tugging on the sleeve of the massive wine coloured sweater.</p><p>Robin gave a soft hum beside him, and swayed a little, brushing her shoulder against his hip and releasing a loud and rather delectable sounding yawn.<br/>“Oh god! Sorry!” she laughed, covering her mouth, “I blame the fresh air!”</p><p>“I blame copious amounts of booze!” he smiled, “Come on then I’m gonna call it a night too,” he stubbed out his cigarette and glanced at the small pile of smouldering embers of the fire; they’d burn out naturally; but he picked up the large knife to return to the kitchen.</p><p>Robin placed what was left of the crusty loaf into the cream, enamel bread bin and smiled as Strike locked and bolted the back door with the ease of one who had performed the task multiple times.<br/>“You go on, use the bathroom,” he instructed and glanced after her as she made her way up the stairs.</p><p>He busied himself rinsing out the few used dishes and mugs, as well as the knife before turning off the lights and climbing the creaking staircase.<br/>He could hear Robin humming some rhythmical song from behind the bathroom door and went into his double bedded room, smiling at the crumple to his bed cover caused by Robin earlier lying and bouncing on it.<br/>He stifled a small growl in his chest - he now had to sleep on that same bed!</p><p>The door from the bathroom creaked, his own bedroom door still ajar, and she knocked softly as she made her way past.<br/>“All finished, good night Strike.”</p><p>“Night Ellacott,” he replied. <br/>Was it his imagination or was his voice slightly huskier than usual? <br/>Must be the fags!</p><p>Glancing at her retreating form he could see that Lucy’s pyjamas were slightly snug fitting across her backside….and why the hell did they have to be cream coloured? <br/>He was oddly, neither embarrassed or surprised that he was staring at the clearly visible outline of the cheeks of her backside….every curve, cleft and teasing dimple.</p><p>Fuck!<br/>He wouldn’t be able to pee for a while after that sight.</p><p>As she slipped behind the door to her room he groaned further and flopped backwards across the mattress in a manner not dissimilar to Robin’s pose earlier in the evening. He also heard the distinctive squeak his body weight caused to the mattress.<br/>“Bloody hell this is not helping one bit,” he hissed, staring down at the solid bulge beneath the flies of his jeans, desperately hoping that the power of his gaze could diminish it.</p><p>He heaved himself upright and limped uncomfortably along the landing and into the bathroom. <br/>He saw that Robin appeared to have used some of his E45 cream, presumably in order to remove the last dregs of her makeup from the day, and as he removed his overshirt and swilled cool water across his face he wondered whether one of the towels would bear a trace of her perfume.</p><p>He filled the sink and plunged his face into the water, which he made as cold as possible, hoping it would dull his ardour enough to enable him to use the loo.<br/>Exhaling with his face under the water level created a blubbing ripple from his lips.<br/>Robin….his Robin…..had travelled to Cornwall…..to see him…..no other reason really…..and she was sleeping in his old childhood bedroom….in his sister’s pyjamas.</p><p>Lifting his head he patted it with a small towel and shook his hair to remove some of the droplets. </p><p>He managed to use the lavatory and rinsed his hands before brushing his teeth vigorously, flicking off the light and returning to the haven of the spare room.<br/>He could hear Ted’s gentle snore from the adjacent room; it was a sound which always helped him sleep, but thankfully Robin’s room was across the landing, so hopefully they wouldn’t disturb her when he started joining in as a harmonising baritone rumble himself!</p><p>He peeled off his jeans, removing his leg and leaving it stood up inside them before quickly removing his boxer shorts and pulling on the soft flannel pyjama bottoms from beneath his pillow. He kept the t shirt he’d been wearing on and slid under the sheet, duvet and quilted coverlet.<br/>Thankfully (or actually did he wish it otherwise?) Robin’s head had not been anywhere near his pillow, so he could snuggle down without further torment to his equilibrium.<br/>As he scooted down however the rhythmical squeaking from the mattress made him smile and groan. <br/>He knew from experience of sleeping in the single room whilst Lucy was also visiting, that the noise from the squeaking frame travelled…..maybe Robin would already be asleep.</p><p>Across in the single bedded room Robin had curled herself under the covers, pulling the additional spotty quilt over - the cottage was old and clearly not as well insulated as a modern building - despite feeling snug earlier in the evening the temperature of the room had dropped.<br/>She’d felt bold enough to help herself to the pot of cream she knew he used on his stump which was next to his toiletries bag in the bathroom. It, together with loo roll, had served as an effective emergency face cleanser and make up remover. <br/>She’d squirted some of the toothpaste from the tube onto her finger, rubbing it around her gums to freshen her breath up rather than hunt for a new toothbrush - and she’d be able to get access to her own things from her case in the morning…..or maybe the afternoon based on how tired she now felt as she lay with her face crushed into the pillow.</p><p>The sound of an uneven gait on the creaky landing had made her smile - it was a sound that now seemed more familiar and comforting than a regular tread.</p><p>She took stock of her actions over the day - she’d driven for several hours to reach Cornwall and had been welcomed like a long lost relation rather than a complete stranger by Ted and Dave Polworth. <br/>Strike hadn’t seemed in the least bit annoyed by her appearance, in fact he’d seemed rather pleased and happy to have her around….but maybe that was just because they were best mates.<br/>She heard the creaky springs of his bed and buried her face under the covers, giggling and squirming at the thought that he would be snuggling his way into bed.</p><p>Christ he’d be nice to cuddle up to in bed!</p><p>Not for the first time she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms across her own shoulders imagining that they were someone elses’….someone whose hands were larger, hairier and, she now knew, capable of ripping apart a cooked crab in a manner which had had all manner of effect upon her knickers!</p><p>She slept dreaming of the man across the hallway….for some reason stood at the helm of a viking long boat, dressed in drapes of cloth held together with metal clasps in the style of a dominant clansman…...although he was sucking on a cigarette and swigging from a bottle of Doom Bar!<br/>She may have had a little too much to drink!</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Tea in bed.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Strike's 'sniff and check' method of cleanliness is canon (at least on the TV version!) so I reckon it works on his body as well as shirts!<br/>I am absolutely NOT making Mrs Lewis a romantic interest for Ted, but I am basing his friendship on a similar one my mum formed with a gentleman on a coach holiday - neither wanted anything romantic, but enjoyed being with someone who understood loss, and who they could just chat with.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The image of Strike making that 'frame shape' and taking an imaginary picture of Robin is from one of my favourite Tv shows, Gilmore Girls - and although I am not Team Logan (if you know the show, you know what that means) I do LOVE their final meeting in the A Year in the Life mini series....and his final 'click' and whispering of just like that kills me!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Strike woke up with his usual deep, throaty groan as he rolled over onto his side, licking his lips and realising that, as on most days, he’d slept on his back and had presumably been snoring like a tractor based on the dryness in his mouth.<br/>
He could hear movement and the comforting sound of the local radio station from below and knew that his uncle was up and about.</p><p>As he swung to sit on the edge of the mattress he remembered that Robin was sleeping in the small room opposite…..he hoped she was still asleep; if she was he could legitimately nip down and deliver a mug of tea to her…..maybe catch a glimpse of those slightly too tight pyjama bottoms again!<br/>
“Pack it in you pervy fucker!” he admonished himself before quickly slipping out of his pyjamas and finding fresh underwear and t shirt from his kit bag and putting on the same jeans and overshirt as on the previous day.</p><p>He quietly visited the bathroom, giving himself a quick wash and cleaning his teeth.<br/>
He gave his pits a swift sniff and decided that he smelled OK - he’d have a shower later after Robin had got up.</p><p>Down in the kitchen Ted gave him a smile.<br/>
“You alright lad? Not too sore a head this morning?”</p><p>Strike smirked, “No….takes more than an afternoon with Chum to ruin me….although to be fair it’s getting easier to reach oblivion and harder to snap out of it these days. Any tea in the pot?” he asked.</p><p>“That’ll be cold, I’m boiling the kettle fresh though,” he stated. “Is Robin awake?”</p><p>Strike busied himself emptying the stewed tea and removing the used teabags, tossing them onto the small pile of drying out brown bags which Ted insisted on sprinkling over his begonias.<br/>
“Can’t hear anything, I’ll take her a brew up, she’s had enough of a lie in!” and he kept his face pointing away from his uncle, feeling a flush and warmth to his cheeks - it was as if he was a teenager again, being grilled about a girl he liked.</p><p>“Well, I reckon she’ll like that…..and did she say she wanted to go out on the boat? I’m popping into town today - got my afternoon with Mrs Lewis if tha’s alright?” Ted stated.</p><p>Mrs Lewis had lost her husband several years earlier; also to cancer; and like Ted had no other relatives living close.<br/>
The pair had met up at a ‘Sunday Lunch’ group which was organised by the Rotary association. They’d struck up an easy friendship (“And nothing else you know!” Ted was at pains to stress) and had continued to have a weekly catch up over afternoon tea at the Tresanton which they took turns to pay for.<br/>
Lucy had initially been slightly annoyed by the relationship, feeling that somehow her Uncle was ‘moving on’ from her beloved aunt.<br/>
But he’d assured her that neither he nor Mrs Lewis was interested in anything in the way of romance with another at their stage of life. But they liked each others’ company, they understood what the other had been through with cancer treatments that had ultimately been unsuccessful, and it gave Ted something to “Keep myself looking respectable for.”</p><p>Strike gave him a smile, “Course it’s alright. We’ll have to go into town to fetch Robin’s car, can you give us a lift?”<br/>
Ted agreed and after making the tea and pouring out what both men considered far too weak a mug for Robin, Strike took his own and the paler brewed mug and mounted the stairs.</p><p>The door to the smaller room had an odd latch meaning that it was never completely closed, so he was able to nudge his buttocks against it to inch it open.<br/>
The curtains blocked out most of the light.</p><p>He could see that Robin was still asleep; her amber gold hair splayed out across the pillow, her face and lips relaxed and her breathing coming in a deep, even rhythm.<br/>
She looked quite inexorably beautiful. </p><p>He carefully tried to avoid what he knew to be a noisy floorboard just inside the doorway, but winced as he created a loud creak from the wood, causing Robin’s breath to hitch, and her eyes to blink open.<br/>
He thought that perhaps the sight of him in her darkened room could shock or frighten her, but she stretched and gave him a delightful smiling yawn.</p><p>“Morning,” he smiled, “Brought you tea in bed.”</p><p>She shuffled up, dragging her finger through her tangled hair, and hitching her legs into a cross legged sit under the covers.</p><p>“Thank you…..you got one too? Stay….sit,” she instructed picking up her mug and blowing across the surface. “Is it late?” she asked sipping and sighing as the tannin hit.</p><p>“Late for Ted! And I suppose for London...but OK for here,” and he gingerly lowered himself onto the bottom of the single bed, finding the slightly dim light and bed soft features of Robin ridiculously intimate.</p><p>“I slept like a log!” she smiled.</p><p>“All that fresh air and good food!” he suggested, drinking from his own mug and starting to slip into the easy company that they always shared these days.<br/>
His thoughts drifted to his uncle and Mrs Lewis…..was that what he and Robin were destined to be?<br/>
Friends who met up and kept each other company into the years ahead?<br/>
Much as the thought was blissful….having Robin always in his life in some way…...he couldn’t help but feel that he wanted and needed more for them both.</p><p>Robin was watching his features; he’d drifted somewhere in his thoughts; she knew that….she had seen the expression many times before.<br/>
“Good company helps too!” she added, smiling above the rim of her mug.<br/>
She twisted and dragged the curtains open a little, looking out at the chalcedony coloured sea, “Can we go out on the boat today….would that be OK?”</p><p>Strike nodded and gulped tea, “Ted’s off into town and has offered to give us a lift so you can get your case, then I assume you’ll want to pop back here and get spruced up a bit and then it should be OK…...forecast is fair.”</p><p>“Great,” she nodded. “I’ll go and make myself presentable then.”</p><p>On a whim he placed his empty mug in his lap and lifted his hands, creating a rectangular frame shape with his index fingers and slightly stubby thumbs. “Done,” he breathed, his eyes narrowing and lingering a beat or three longer than necessary as she tilted her chin and smiled up at him from beneath her eyelashes in her 'framed portrait' which he'd have committed a fairly serious felony to have been a reality and saved on his actual phone.<br/>
“You might need more than pyjamas on though….I mean St Mawes is fairly small and informal, but even we have standards!” and he got up glancing over his shoulder at her as he left the room, pulling the door over behind him and lumbering heavily down the stairs.</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. We're never gonna be millionaires are we?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cormoran and Robin go out on a boat - not the sail boat of Ted as that wouldn't have worked (the fact that I only worked this out after writing the original version stick in my craw!) so I invented a small powered vessel that is owned by Ilsa's dad - this is now canon! OK?!<br/>They talk about what they both want out of life.....which both confuses and reassures Cormoran!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Twenty minutes later Robin arrived in the kitchen wearing the same clothes as she had done the day before, but the lack of make up and her hair pulled back into a simple pony tail with the aid of a hair scrunchie she carried in her hand bag gave her a simple, ethereal quality.<br/>
“My, you look well rested my gurl,” Ted remarked, “You want some toast?”<br/>
Robin nodded and he ushered her to sit at the table whilst he carved slices from the leftover loaf before setting them under the grill to toast.</p><p>“We can grab something proper in town,” Strike suggested, “Maybe get some stuff to eat out on the boat?”</p><p>Toast spread with thick, salty butter and strawberry jam and eaten, the trio slung jackets and scarves into Ted’s little Corsa, Robin clambering into the back and squealing as Cormoran slid the passenger seat back as fully as it would go to accommodate his long limbs and Ted set off at his ‘30 is the limit not a target’ pootle.</p><p>He was intending to do some shopping in the co-op in the centre before strolling down along the coast path to meet up with Cynthia (aka Mrs Lewis) at the Tresanton in time for the start of afternoon tea - technically it only started being served at 3 o’clock, but as Ted and Cynthia were both locals and regulars they always managed to get served at least an hour earlier!</p><p>Having parked up in the same parking area that still contained the trusty Land Rover he bade them cheerio and set off with his reusable bags.<br/>
They popped into a small bakery where they bought pasties and scones with small pots of clotted cream before heading back towards the car.</p><p>“I’m hoping it won’t have been clamped or anything…...I only paid for parking for yesterday!” Robin grimaced but stared wide eyed as Strike laughed loudly. “What?” she demanded.</p><p>“Robin, this is St Mawes; out of season St Mawes at that…..you could park there all fucking week nobody’d bat an eye….especially once word got out who it belonged to!” and he continued chuckling as he followed her across to swing into the passenger seat as she clambered inside the car.</p><p>“Oh shut up, Mr Local Celebrity!” she grinned, clicking her seat belt into place and pulling the vehicle out of the car park and retracing the journey Ted had just brought them on whilst poking Strike as he rustled and kept sniffing the pasties.</p><p>“But they’re so good hot!” he kept muttering, pouting like a schoolboy as Robin playfully slapped at his hand to prevent him diving in.</p><p>Upon reaching the cottage he allowed her to go up and shower and change into fresh clothing from her case, and he noticed when she reappeared at the back door - he was taking the opportunity for a cigarette outside - that she’d applied some make up and her hair was slightly glossier.<br/>
He’d sorted out a thermos flask filled with tea and invited Robin to rummage around in the cupboards and fridge for anything else she fancied for on the boat while he went himself for a shower.<br/>
Wafts of her deliciously scented shower products and shampoo filled his senses and he considered that it would have played less havoc with his equilibrium if he’d showered when he got up…..but he’d really wanted to surprise Robin with tea in bed….so, showering with a stiffie was his penance!</p><p>“Bloody hell! Are you thinking we might get shipwrecked?” he joked as he saw the pile of items Robin had added to the bags of pasties and scones on the kitchen counter.</p><p>“What do you mean? This is the standard ‘Going on a trip with Strike’ rations!” and she grinned impishly at his raised eyebrow glower.</p><p>“Fair enough Ellacott, you all set?” and he took his long blue scarf to wrap around his neck, and on this occasion dragged his huge overcoat over the top. </p><p>Robin took her cue from him and added her woolly, pale blue hat and gloves as well as her own checked scarf over her waxed jacket which was always stashed in the back of the Land Rover, and which seemed to suit the weather and nature of the expedition better than her neat, short jacket.<br/>
Strike nodded at her to approve her clothing choices, and each tucked a canvas shopping bag filled with goodies over their shoulder before starting the walk down to the harbour.</p><p>As was often the case they started to discuss the business and what they had in over the next couple of weeks.<br/>
Nothing huge or particularly time consuming.<br/>
They laughed when, at the same time, both mentioned about it giving them the opportunity to perhaps tackle a couple of the ‘waiting list’ cases, especially the ones which they knew clients had limited incomes and couldn’t pay.</p><p>“We’re never gonna be millionaires are we?” Strike stated, half serious, but half amused.</p><p>Robin regarded him shrewdly, “Do you want to be? I certainly don’t….I always thought we were on the same page there….like we had that in common - you have Charlotte in your past who was all about the money, and I had Matthew…..and neither of us really ‘got’ that appeal,” and she continued glancing across at him, sighing as the sea became more vast in her eyeline.</p><p>Strike sucked on his lip before he answered, “True….but you want enough money to be happy….to be settled and safe I assume,” he stated guardedly.<br/>
This was one of the frequent thoughts he had in relation to not crossing that final line with Robin - she wanted more, materially, than he could ever begin to offer her.</p><p>Robin jutted her chin and lips, “I’ve got that already! Got a job, got a flat - OK it’s the smallest flat in the world, but I’ve got it - and the job I’m doing makes me happy. Working with you makes me happy. I don’t think I need anything else.”</p><p>Her response made him feel both elated and frustrated in equal measure. </p><p>Working with him made her happy - that was wonderful!<br/>
But, she didn’t need anything else - no relationship?<br/>
No additional emotional support?<br/>
No…..sex?</p><p>Reaching the harbour Strike indicated the perilous looking set of stone steps leading down to where a selection of small boats were moored up, some tied to buoys, others to each other, and a couple dragged so that they were resting on the sand, the tide having retreated a little.</p><p>Robin saw Ted’s boat immediately, it made her smile to see the name and the fact that either end was decorated with a hand painted deep pink rose.<br/>
“We’re on this one today,” Strike indicated, which was a different type of boat - one with a small open cabin and a motor. “It’s Ilsa’s dad’s and easier to manage than the sail - without Ted I’m a bit of a hazard agility wise, and you’d be useless!” he stated, with no accusation, just practicality in his tone.<br/>
Robin nodded - she’d certainly never sailed and wouldn’t have a clue!</p><p>The boat was the third in a line which were moored together, meaning they had to clamber across the other 2 vessels.<br/>
It felt rather odd to Robin to just use the other boats without having the permission of the owners, but Strike assured her this was “just what you do!” with a shrug that gave her confidence to not worry about marking the paintwork or side rails unduly.</p><p>Strike insisted on helping Robin into her lifevest - she was certain she could have managed it herself, but there was something rather comforting about having Cormoran’s large, strong arms around her, his hands fastening the catches up and tugging it into place….she’d wrestle with the fact that she was a bad feminist later!<br/>
Strike told himself that he’d feel happier knowing that she was safely and securely strapped into her life jacket, meaning that he would be able to concentrate on the steering etc…..the fact that the process was no more complex than putting on a fucking coat was neither here nor there….she seemed to have accepted his reasoning anyway!</p><p>The little vessel bobbed about quite a bit, despite the sea apparently being calm by Strike’s opinion; but with him stood steering, a lit fag dangling from his lips, she felt an odd sense of being lulled.<br/>
She’d sat down on a small ledge at the back of the boat but as she got used to the motion felt secure enough to stand up and move towards Strike.</p><p>“OK?” he hissed, taking one hand from the controls to remove his cigarette and blow out the smoke, his eyes narrowed as the breeze ruffled his curls.</p><p>She nodded and smiled, “I am….this is really very pleasant,” she wrinkled her nose as a stronger gust caused the waves to swell and her to briefly lose her balance, clutching the side of the cabin.<br/>
Strike instinctively reached out, but she’d managed to steady herself, “We’ll stick to the calmer bits near the harbour though…..any further out at sea and you either won’t want to eat anything, or anything you do eat might come back up a bit quick!”<br/>
Any slightly romantic notions were therefore whisked from her mind at the knowledge that Strike was thinking about his belly.....and the possibility of vomiting!</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Time to meet Joan...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I guess this is sort of what we've been waiting for - but there is serious pasty eating to be had beforehand.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>....and of course the programme Robin is thinking about is The Last Kingdom! - I'll be honest, I have 'watched' some of it on fast forwards with a few scenes paused and rewinded......if there is a storyline I am unaware of it.....and yes, I am a BAD feminist!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>And so they turned off the engine at a spot in a small, sheltered cove, not far away from the mouth of the more sheltered natural harbour.<br/>
Robin had enjoyed watching Strike as he manoeuvred the little boat, his gaze was focused but calm; his hands seemed solid and practised at the controls and she realised that she was making a soft whimpering sound as she considered how those skills could be put to good effect in other areas of life!</p><p>“Is your mouth watering?” he asked, startling her out of the brief foray into imagining Strike cast as a character from a Viking based drama she’d been watching (mainly for the fact that the male lead seemed to have no issue in getting his kit off as the actual storyline had passed both her and Ilsa by!)</p><p>“Hmm? What?” she asked. Blankly.</p><p>“You ready to eat? You know I can always devour a horse, but there is something about being out in the sea air, it really does make me ravenous…..plus I know we’ve got pasties to eat…..and they’re amazingly good ones from that bakery!” and he moved himself to deal with lowering the small anchor down into the murky depths.<br/>
Robin realised that she was rather famished herself and grabbed one of the canvas bags.</p><p>They arranged the various items in their packaging - bags torn open to enable hands to dip in and out and Strike poured tea from the thermos.<br/>
Ted had a second, enamel type mug tucked under the controls which Strike used; his theory being, “I’ve got no idea what this was last used for!”</p><p>Robin’s groan of delight at her traditional Cornish pasty was also masking the sound her body made involuntarily at the sight of Strike animalistically masticating his own pasty.<br/>
Dear God it was almost obscene…..if he was that enthusiastic about food it certainly boded well for other aspects of life…..or bed!</p><p>The sound of seagulls and the lapping of waves against the vessel was the only accompaniment to their lunch feast and Robin's mental foray into forbidden territory.</p><p>Strike was able to cast covert glances at Robin as she ate.<br/>
He had always liked the fact that Robin enjoyed her food…..especially since she’d stopped the ridiculous diet she had been on before her wedding!<br/>
She didn’t take dainty bites; she didn’t discard things half eaten - although she occasionally passed the last part of a sandwich to him - and she never had an issue with snacking.<br/>
If you followed the old adage that ‘you are what you eat’ then both he and Robin were interesting, varied and imaginative people. </p><p>His Aunt Joan had always said you could tell how happy someone was based on how enthusiastically they ate their food.<br/>
Right now Robin was chomping her way through an enormous Cornish pasty, the filling of which was becoming tangled in wisps of her amber-gold hair which was being blown across her face as she tried to eat.<br/>
She was laughing hysterically as she caught him watching her; wiping specks of potato across her pink cheeks and shaking her head.</p><p>“Oh my god! Can you come and hold my hair out of the way before I give myself a very niche conditioning treatment!” she squealed.</p><p>Having balled up his own paper bag he lurched across to her and rather clumsily, but adorably scrunched her hair into a rough clump in his hands, focusing on the fact that he was being helpful and practical rather than the fact that he was in the closest proximity he’d ever been in with the part of her physical beauty that he probably spent the most time fantasising about.</p><p>Robin took a further bite from her half eaten pasty and nodded gently - mainly because if she’d done so more animatedly she’d have lost clumps of her hair - and through a mouthful of pastry told him, “Shtay eggxacly yike ‘at ‘til I’ve finished!”</p><p>He considered some of the fancy places he’d eaten in; he considered some of the notable company he’d shared his time with over the years; he considered that his tea was getting cold where he’d left it on the roof of the cabin…..and still there was nowhere he’d rather be that standing holding the hair of his perfect partner as she noisily and heartily demolished her pasty!</p><p> </p><p>Having eaten the thing in its entirety - no mean feat given the enormous size of it- she screwed up her empty bag and slapped her lips.</p><p>“Well THAT…..was bloomin’ delicious!” she grinned, shaking her hair as he somewhat reluctantly released it from his grasp.<br/>
The feeling of it’s silkiness lingered on his fingers as he reached over for his mug and gulped down the now cold remnants of his brew….he didn’t mind in the slightest though.</p><p>“This is completely wonderful you know!” Robin stated. “I mean, I know Henry was my birthday present…..but this,” and she threw her arms wide and inhaled deeply, grinning widely, “Cormoran, it’s bloody gorgeous!”</p><p>He couldn’t prevent the warmth in his chest breaking out on his face.<br/>
He followed her gaze out across the sea, thinking back to when he’d watched the, with hindsight, rather beautiful flower shaped vessel containing his beloved aunt’s ashes bob out into the waves.<br/>
“Yeah,” he murmured, momentarily lost in his thoughts, “It bloody is.”</p><p>This place, St Mawes, out on the sea in a little boat….he could understand why Ted spent most days out here.<br/>
It was like a little sanctuary from real life.<br/>
And Robin gave him that same feeling wherever they were together in the world. </p><p>Robin moved over to the rear of the boat and sat down on the small ledge that ran across it, long enough to fit 2 or 3 people.<br/>
Leaning fractionally over to her right hand side she trailed her fingers lightly through the water, which she discovered was icy cold as well as icy coloured.<br/>
Her face was wistful and serene.</p><p>Strike discovered a lump had formed in his throat which had nothing to do with the pasty, chocolate teacake or bag of crisps he’d munched his way though (Robin had insisted that the scones would be better later, given that the pasties were “the size of your head!”)</p><p>His eyes remained on her as she gently wafted her hand through the water.</p><p>His thought instantly went to his late aunt Joan …..God she would have adored Robin!</p><p>As smoothly as possible for a one legged man on a small, rocking boat, he moved to lower himself down beside her on the small ledge.<br/>
His size meant that he needed to press quite close to her; at least that was what Robin told herself as she registered his proximity.</p><p>In all her life; in all the shitty situations she’d been through - many of which had happened since she’d met him - she’d never felt the overwhelming sense of safety and comfort that she did when he was beside her.<br/>
Sitting squashed beside him now; the warmth radiating from him as they rocked gently in the little boat she felt like they could be the only 2 people in the world.</p><p> </p><p>Strike’s gaze was on Robin’s elegant fingers as her hand splayed gently through the water, but out of the corner of his eye he saw something white bobbing on the surface - it was probably some seabird, but it took him back to his final moments with Joan.<br/>
Firstly those moments watching her ashes disperse into the waves, and then onto the moment when he’d admitted to her just how strongly he felt for her….the last words she’d heard before she died.</p><p>He wished he could have said them just once more to her.<br/>
He could have told her every day.<br/>
All those wasted opportunities he’d had with her.</p><p>Next to him he felt as well as heard Robin’s voice as she hummed softly and dragged her fingers gently through the water.<br/>
“Hi Joan….I’m Robin.”</p><p>Strike couldn’t have prevented himself from acting; at that very moment in time and space everything aligned and he knew, just….KNEW, that it was right.</p><p>He lifted his own right arm and slid it around and behind Robin, pressing himself closer into her body in order to locate her hand under the sea and entangle his fingers with her own.<br/>
Her returned squeeze gave him further reassurance and he said out loud the feelings and truth that had been unspoken for too long,<br/>
“She’s everything to me Joan…..and I love her.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>can we have a communal Squeeeeeeee please</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Looks like he got there!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After the sort of cliff hanger/not cliff hanger of the previous chapter the fluff continues.<br/>They make it back to dry land and Ted gets to know the happy news.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Robin’s heart, which had begun to flutter with the increased pressure of Cormoran’s large, firm body against hers, had almost exploded into a million pieces when his hand had slid into her own.<br/>
The icy water suddenly heated in their combined grip, and when she squeezed his strong but tentative fingers she felt the slight hitch to his breathing against her neck.</p><p>His words felt like the most glorious aria in her ears, and despite wanting to turn around and see if his eyes were reflecting the same level of seriousness she found herself unable to move.<br/>
Their hands continued to engage in their underwater dance, stroking and caressing like seaweed trying to find purchase on a rock.</p><p>Somehow, the fact that she had neither instantly reacted in shock nor in ecstasy was more reassuring to him than if she had, and he took a deep breath before continuing.</p><p>“I know I’m not good enough for you….you deserve so much more than a knackered old cripple like me. And I know this could be the most stupid thing I ever do - the thought of risking our friendship and destroying what we actually have has stopped me before,  but Robin, I waited way too long before I told Joan how I truly felt about her…..I don’t want to make that mistake again,” at this point Robin twisted on her narrow, wooden perch and tried to focus her slightly blurry gaze on the collar of his shirt and the dark swarthy skin of his neck.<br/>
Their hands had slid apart in the water, Robin’s having been withdrawn completely to steady herself against his chest.</p><p>“You love me then?” she whispered, finally lifting her eyes; the exact fucking colour of the Cornish sea he thought as he stared into them hopefully; the only reaction he was capable of was to nod gently.</p><p>She held his gaze, and softened her neck, leaning fractionally forwards then turning her eyes towards the waves lapping against the boat, “Well, I reckon he should kiss me; don’t you Joan?”<br/>
As she flicked her eyes back to find his; warm, soft and full of love he raised his hand from the water and gently slid it behind her neck.</p><p>Robin shrieked loudly and recoiled back in horror, “Buggering hell that’s cold!” and she wriggled her shoulders and back vigorously to dispel the droplets of icy sea water which Cormoran had inadvertently trickled down the back of her collar.</p><p>“Can we try that again please?” he winced, clenching his hands into fists this time before reaching to caress against her arm.</p><p>“Yes please,” she murmured, and as the little boat bobbed on the sea they kissed.<br/>
Slowly, thoroughly, sweetly, passionately, conveying every emotion they had felt and left unspoken for so long.</p><p>Time was irrelevant.<br/>
Nobody else existed.</p><p>The gentle rocking of the boat acted like an additional pair of arms wrapped around them as they whispered soft words and smiled against each other.</p><p>Eventually, the need for oxygen became too strong and they pulled apart, foreheads fused, panting and grinning.<br/>
“Should we go back to dry land…...maybe talk about what this is…..could be?” he asked.</p><p>Robin nodded against his head, “Yeah…..I’m hoping it’s a pretty quick discussion though.”</p><p>Strike snorted a little, “Well, I’m all in Ellacott, what about you?”</p><p>“Ditto,” she grinned and reached out to capture his mouth again with her own, just as a particularly rough wave hit the boat, making it jerk and their teeth to clash together awkwardly.</p><p>“OW!” both laughed, Robin rubbing her top lip.<br/>
“I think that is our cue to go…..and maybe tell Ted?” Strike suggested, levering himself reluctantly away from Robin’s body, which fitted into his arms so perfectly, even with the restriction of lifevests!</p><p>Robin stood up too and nodded, “Well, Joan already knows….so it’s only fair!”</p><p>She joined him at the controls of the little vessel and grinned as he manoeuvred her in front of him, hemming her in between his legs and placing her hands under his on the controls.<br/>
She relaxed against him, smiling as she felt him press soft kisses to her scalp.</p><p>After making the boat safe and gathering up the remainder of their uneaten picnic they clambered back onto dry land and tackled the stone steps in single file before Strike captured Robin with a strong arm around her waist.<br/>
“Mmmmm, that’s better….no life jacket in the way!” he grinned, growling slightly animalistically and snuffling into her neck.</p><p>They laughed their way back to the little cottage where they found Ted tidying up one of the borders with his long handled hoe.<br/>
Their close contact, smiles and glittering eyes spoke volumes, but as they came to pause at the little gate his nephew pressed a closed eyed kiss to Robin’s temple.<br/>
The shared wink between the two men was missed by Robin as she blushed happily.</p><p>“We’ve got scones that somehow didn’t get eaten!” Strike announced, “Kettle on?”</p><p>“Sounds perfect to me….just lemme put this away,” and Ted pottered off towards his shed.</p><p>He waited until he couldn’t hear their voices before he cast his eyes out towards the sea, “I know, I know….you were always right my gurl! Looks like he got there though!”</p><p>The rest of the day and evening passed in a delicious combination of scones with jam and clotted cream, pots of tea, repeats of Inspector Morse on TV…..and in the case of Robin and Strike about a million new ways of touching, stroking, kissing, smiling and sharing happiness.</p><p>Ted heated up one of Ilsa’s mum’s shepherd’s pies from the freezer for their supper, together with sliced up beetroot and pickled red cabbage from a huge Kilner jar.<br/>
They ate on their laps in the living room; Cormoran and Robin occupying the sofa and allowing themselves a brief respite from body contact - although Ted did spot that Robin’s sock clad toes where tucked up under his nephew’s thigh.</p><p>Ted and Robin took care of the dishes while Strike popped out to top up his nicotine level having somehow been distracted enough throughout the day to have only smoked a few.</p><p>“I’m ever so glad you decided to drive down here Robin,” Ted admitted as he rinsed out the sink.</p><p>Robin continued drying their plates and stacking them neatly back in the cabinet but smiled, “I am too….I was inspired by a rather pushy little donkey called Mavis!” she shrugged.</p><p>Ted shook his head lightly, “Well, whatever it was, I’m just happy for you both…..go easy on ‘im though….he’s not always too good with this emotional stuff.”</p><p>Robin laughed heartily, “Oh don’t I know!” she grinned, hanging the damp tea towel over the cooker rail. “But I’ve got a whole barrow load of history myself!”</p><p>Ted gave a soft laugh, “Well then, I reckon it’s lucky you found each other! I’m gonna take myself a little glass of whisky up to bed with my book….you two can have a bit o’ privacy,” and to Robin’s shock and delight he gave her a quick one armed hug, whispering, “You’re such a lovely gurl,” before releasing her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I still have 1 or 2 chapters left to finish this off.<br/>Thank you so much for all the lovely comments so far x x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. You're not gonna change your mind?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our babies spend a lovely time on Ted's sofa.....and Robin can't resist him in that squeaky bed......although he's somewhat oblivious (come on....it's Strike!)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Robin and Cormoran spent a rather delicious few hours wrapped around each other on the sofa, the fire cracked down to glowing embers, the TV did that ‘are you still watching’ thing before clicking itself off.<br/>
They talked about moments from their past when they’d started discovering their true feelings; the key events which had made them both start taking notice; key outfits which had caused them both to drool; moments in the office, or at Nick and Ilsa’s, or in her flat, or in The Tottenham when they’d almost acted; and a whole list of reasons why they hadn’t.</p><p>It felt very much like clearing the waters between them - both aware that the other was as serious and petrified of fucking it all up as the other, and yet both prepared at last to take the risk.</p><p>They decided to head back to London the following day - no plans were made further than agreeing to meet up for a drink and some food at The Tottenham - that had felt enough like a statement of intent from him; he was happy to take things at Robin’s pace - Jesus, if they only got to cuddle on the sofa as they had been doing for the past couple of hours he’d be the happiest man alive…..although the way she’d been grinding against his obvious arousal led him to believe that she was as desperate for him as he was for her!</p><p>At some point around midnight, a decided chill had overtaken the room and Robin had stifled more than one yawn, making Strike give an almighty, jaw dislocating one of his own.<br/>
“Right! That settles it….sea air, pasties and snogging you all night has done me in….I’m off to bed,” he announced wriggling and giggling as Robin clung to him like a limpet to try and ‘prevent’ him leaving the sofa.<br/>
Reluctantly she gave in, mainly because she realised she needed a pee, and was indeed knackered.</p><p>“Just promise me….when I wake up tomorrow….this won’t have been a dream will it? You’re not gonna change your mind and go all sensible and put the business first crap are you?” she pouted through lips reddened by contact with his own.</p><p>He reached out his hand to her and pulled her upright and into his close body space.<br/>
The scent of him had become mingled with her own perfume and shampoo, but there was that unmistakable masculine aroma of tobacco and sweat mixed with body wash and whisky.<br/>
“I’m not going back on anything I’ve said or done today. The business will have to find a way around whatever happens with us….but I promise you, I’ll still be here in the morning, and I’ll still want you as much as I do now….as much as I have done for….fucking ages!” and he held her tight, his palms swarming across her back.</p><p>Upstairs they kissed, rather chastly, on the landing before whispering “Good night” to each other.<br/>
“Don’t bounce too much or I might get carried away in there,” she grinned, waggling her eyebrows towards the small single room.</p><p>He shook his head and made a throaty growl, “Don’t say things like that Ellacott,” but his eyes flashed amusement.</p><p> </p><p>He’d squirmed his way under the covers, having pee’d, washed his face and cleaned his teeth and put on the soft pyjamas from the previous night and had reflected on the fact that the world appeared to still be turning; no major disasters had been reported on the news and he himself appeared to still be alive and not staring into a bright light down a tunnel.<br/>
The world therefore hadn’t ended when he’d told Robin he loved her then!<br/>
With a rueful and contented grin on his face he lay back against the pillows, grinning a little at the few squeaks of the bed springs which were inevitable.</p><p>Robin had removed her make up, brushed the various tangles from her hair - caused by a mixture of sea breezes and Cormoran’s hands. She pulled on her own flannel pyjama bottoms, slouchy top and fluffy bed socks before climbing into bed.<br/>
There was a ridiculous grin on her face which she couldn’t remove, and she did a rather teenage squeal and wriggle, banging her heels on the mattress and stifling a grinning shout of excitement beneath the covers.<br/>
Panting and chest heaving, her hair a mess once more, she flopped back against the pillows.<br/>
She could hear Strike getting comfy in his bed across the hall.<br/>
Her thoughts travelled to the delicious feeling of his large, firm body against hers on the sofa.<br/>
She’d be able to do whatever she wanted to that body…..<br/>
“Hmmmmm, far too tempting!” she mumbled, “Get a grip Ellacott!” and she squeezed her legs together at the many and multiple pleasures she was looking forward to experiencing with Strike.</p><p> </p><p>Robin woke up a couple of hours later; she was thirsty.<br/>
The combined sounds of Ted and Cormoran’s snores was comforting as she snuck down to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. She’d forgotten about the creaky floors and Strike’s rhythmical deep, throaty breaths had been momentarily interrupted.<br/>
She froze, one socked foot raised on the landing and smiled as she heard him slap his lips together, followed by a creak of the bed springs and a contented growl as he presumably settled back into his slumbers.<br/>
The idea of returning to her own single bed suddenly seemed like a really poor alternative to creeping in and curling up next to him.<br/>
"I bet Mavis is getting up close and personal with Henry right this minute!" she murmured.</p><p>The room was dimly lit - just the moonlight through the curtains illuminating the sight of Strike curled like a small boy on his side, his lips rippling fractionally on each exhalation.<br/>
She almost changed her mind - he looked so peaceful and sweet…..like a hibernating bear.<br/>
But as he twisted over a little she was hit with a lungful of the purely Strike scent she’d been nestling into all evening and if she’d been wearing knickers beneath her pjs they’d have been instantly ruined!!</p><p>“Fuck it!” she whispered and tiptoed across, placing her glass on the bedside cabinet next to his watch, change and phone.<br/>
She gingerly lifted the corner of duvet and squeaked at the sight of a small sliver of his hairy belly visible between his checked trousers and grey top.<br/>
Sliding next to him on the small section of available mattress he whimpered a collection of random noises and scooched back a bit, giving her enough room to snuggle down with her back pressed against his chest.<br/>
She lifted his arm, huffing a little at its weight given his comatose state, and settled it around her waist, his fingers hanging limply infront of her little belly bulge, which she somehow figured would be no more of an issue to Cormoran than his was to her.</p><p>With a whispered, “Yeah….nice,” she wriggled a little more and fell into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One chapter to go folks.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Don't be jealous of Henry!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Well folks, this has been a blast.<br/>I wrote this with the title, Sanctuary after making the link to the Donkey Sanctuary, but writing it was a little sanctuary from real life for me too.<br/>Thank you for reading, and for commenting - as always, I am honoured that people have enjoyed this fic.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At around about 7am Strike’s bladder decided it needed emptying, although the increased pressure against him may have been a factor.<br/>
The feeling of a warm, soft body combined with the unmistakable scent of Robin caused his cock to twitch, and he swore under his breath, knowing that an erection was the last thing he needed now - he’d never be able to pee; plus the last thing he wanted to do was come across as a ridiculously horny teenager when this was his first morning waking up beside Robin….although to be fair, she’d obviously snuck in without his knowledge, so maybe she'd forgive him!</p><p>He reckoned that he could probably hang on and control his need to urinate for a bit longer - the feeling of bliss coursing through him was too good to break, so he stroked his palm across the fabric he could reach at her tummy.<br/>
He sighed at how relaxed she felt in his arms, her breaths were regular and deep.<br/>
He snuffled his nose into the amber hair just under his chin and kissed her several times before getting more comfortable, a smile on his lips as he imagined this as his future; although the squeaking from the bed springs reminded him that he was still in his Uncle’s house, and that mornings waking up with Robin in his or her flat could be even better.</p><p>It was probably only about 20 minutes later, he’d been slumbering but not fully asleep, when he heard Ted stirring.<br/>
He listened and smirked at the unmistakably assured morning piss of an old man hitting the bowl noisily, and his various attempts to dislodge fluids from his throat and nostrils.<br/>
Robin in his arms remained dormant.</p><p>“Bloody hell, Ellacott! If you can sleep through that it bodes well for my snoring!” he murmured wincing as he wriggled his arm free from under his pillow causing his bladder to jiggle about and him to exclaim the word, “Bugger!” a little more loudly than he’d intended.</p><p>Robin stirred and gave a deliciously sensual and cat-like stretch and yawn against him, which would have created all manner of havoc to his equilibrium and pyjama region specifically had he now not been desperate to wee.</p><p>“You were not here when I went to sleep,” he grumbled against her hair, loosening his arms so that she could twist around and look at him.<br/>
She grinned and gave him a close lipped peck on his waiting mouth, “I know…..am I in trouble?” she asked playfully.<br/>
He grinned.</p><p>He liked playful Robin.</p><p>He liked playful Robin in his bed with him, wriggling her unsupported breasts against his chest with only a couple of layers of fabric between them.</p><p>Sadly, he liked it all a bit too much and with a concerted effort and restraint he didn’t know he possessed he pressed her gently but purposefully away and manoeuvred himself to sit on the edge of the bed - bed springs creaking for England.<br/>
“Much as this is a very definite unexpected treat, my need to piss is far more expected and usual….so….stay there til I get back,” and he rapidly attached his leg before limping oddly out to the bathroom due to having one bare regular foot plus a booted prosthetic one.</p><p>Robin stretched out in the warm space he had vacated and buried her nose in the musky smelling pillow.<br/>
Christ she’d slept well!</p><p>She could hear him flush and wash his hands and when he returned he waggled his eyebrows at her.</p><p>“I could definitely get used to this...I mean, obviously back in London…..in a bed that isn’t ancient and as noisy as FUuuuuCK!” he shouted the final word, having sat and removed his limb again and been grappled, flailing back across the bed by Robin.<br/>
“Oh, it’s like that is it?" he sniggered, "Take advantage of me when my leg’s off and I’m most vulnerable hey?!” but he was laughing and giggling along with her as he proved that he’d also swirled around some mouthwash when using the loo.<br/>
His kisses were minty fresh and becoming increasingly intense as he rolled her confidently in his arms back under the covers, pulling them over their heads to create a darkened cocoon.</p><p>Robin was scratching her small finger nails through his tousled, bed styled hair and returning his open mouthed, tongue probing kisses enthusiastically.<br/>
Something in his eidetic memory kicked in and he chuckled deeply - it was a quivering rumble to Robin’s lips as they explored his neck and the tuft of enticing hair visible above the v neckline of his sleep top.</p><p>“What’s so funny?” she asked, pouting and looking a combination of desirable and cute that he’d have to either warn her about at some point….or maybe not!</p><p>“Just…..what you’re doing to my hair…..reminds me of what you were doing to Henry the other day….I was so fucking jealous!” and he laughed as Robin wrinkled her nose in delight.</p><p>“Don’t be jealous of Henry…..he should be crowned King of Donkeys…..he finally brought us here,” and she flicked her head, indicating their reclined, entangled position together in bed.</p><p>“Alright,” he whispered, “I’m no longer jealous of him…..but only because you didn’t slip him your tongue!” and he grabbed her and plundered her mouth again, groaning as she again gave him the delight Henry would never know!</p><p> </p><p>Later in the morning they made it to a showered and dressed state and packed up their bag and case.<br/>
Ted was pleased as punch to have met Robin and to know that his nephew had finally “got his head out of his arse and asked you out!”<br/>
And he hugged them both tightly and sincerely before they departed, Robin gave a beep of the Land Rover’s horn and they waved to the disappearing white head of Ted, who looked so much like a part of the actual scenery it was almost unreal!</p><p>“Right then…..home Ellacott!” Strike stated, rummaging in the glove box and tutting as he found only a small number of black jelly babies in the bag and no other sweeties to be found.<br/>
“Home it is!” she grinned and then quieter, more cautiously, “It’s gonna be OK isn’t it? Us I mean?”</p><p>He inhaled deeply and noisily, “Well, obviously things could go horribly wrong if you don’t refill the sweetie supplies within the next...oh, 10 miles or so!” he quipped and ignored her tutting and shaking head.</p><p>He then reached over and clasped her hand in his, lifting it to his lips and pressing a kiss there, “Partners…..in every way....right?”</p><p>She gave a little shiver and nodded, smiling,  her eyes focused and clear on the road ahead of them with him beside her.</p>
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